


Over the Dub

by selfindulgences



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Developing Friendships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, French Kissing, Gore, Gun Violence, I'm trying my best, Masturbation, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Neck Kissing, Original Character(s), Phase One (Gorillaz), Rough Kissing, Scratching, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Zombies, because this is Murdoc fucking Niccals let's get real here, the tags just keep getting worse as I go along i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-05-19 18:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 90,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14879054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selfindulgences/pseuds/selfindulgences
Summary: He was barbed wire hidden under the smoothest velvet, a honey to bait the flies that willingly drowned in the sweetness, a Pandora’s box of bad decisions waiting to be set loose. Murdoc Niccals was not a man to be trusted, let alone loved. Only a goddamn fool would even try.Anna Santos was that goddamned fool.





	1. The Mob Rules

“A gig at the Camden Brownhouse?” Anna repeated.

Her aunt nodded as she shuffled through some photos on her desk. She paused to examine a picture of a man screeching into a microphone and leaping high into the air. “That's right. Just the one band, though.”

“But no one _good_ ever plays there.”

Her aunt let out a spluttering laugh, and her dark hair spilled over her shoulder.

“You're right,” she agreed, brushing her hair away impatiently. “No one good ever has. But word around town says this band is different. They sent for EMI's A&R man, and he's actually taking the time to come down and watch their gig. They had to have shown him some pretty impressive stuff for a talent agent like him to be willing to check them out live.”

Anna sighed. “Alright, I'll cover them.”

It’d be a pain if the band turned out to be some overly ambitious disappointment, though. She had seen too many talentless hacks at the Brownhouse who were so focused on their image and the money they hoped to make in the future that they hardly gave any thought to the music. It was excruciating to watch.

“Why'd they book their gig _there_?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder. “Don't they know the Brownhouse's reputation?”

Her aunt shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe they think they can change it.”

“With one show? No one's  _that_ good, Aunt Nora.” She roped the lanyard that held her press badge through the loop in her jeans, tying it tight. “See you later.”

“Try to be home by ten!” her aunt said without looking up. “I'm making lasagna for dinner tonight.”

Anna grinned at the prospect awaiting her. “Sounds good! Bye!” she said with a wave over her shoulder.

* * *

The Brownhouse looked even dingier than the last time she was forced to attend a gig here. In the dim fluorescent lighting, the faded red paint did indeed make the place look brown as dirt. Or shit.

Something was odd about this gig, though. Anna felt it in the air, saw it on the tense faces of those attending. Pierced punks met with languid, most likely high, hippie-looking groups with a savage glare, not that the hippies seemed to notice. Anna took out a small notepad and scribbled, _No genre specified? Punks and hippies uneasily intermingle to check out the latest Brownhouse gig._

She shoved the pen and notepad back in her purse then fell in line to get in. They were all handed heavy-duty welding glasses they could barely see through. She wanted to ask what they were for, but the buzzing crowd behind her shoved her in before she had the chance.

All kinds of people seemed to be attending, from hyped-up college students to preppy schoolgirls huddled in the corner to.... Was that a child? Who let a child in here?

She rolled her eyes at their parents’ negligence. She could just imagine the unruly kids screaming and ruining everything. Although, if this band turned out to be just another group of wannabes, there wasn’t much to ruin anyway.

A few punks with neon pink and green mohawks stood closest to the stage, cradling plastic cups of what she assumed was the cheap lager the Brownhouse provided its patrons. Anna brought out her pen and notepad once more.

 _Bizarre, eclectic group of attendees,_ she wrote and underlined twice.

She frowned up at the empty stage.

 _And I'm one of them,_ she thought in silent despair as the shabby spotlight flicked on and swung to the front at last.

* * *

“I still think we should call ourselves Satan's Scrotum. It's got a nice ring to it,” Murdoc insisted backstage. He cradled his dark bass as if it were a child. Of which he knew he had plenty of, not that he ever bothered to check in on any of them.

Russel made a face. “Naw, man! I don't wanna be named afta some crusty-ass demon's junk! 'sides, I still like Astrix.”

Murdoc seemed to consider this for a moment. “Hmmmm, nah. Wot about Number of the Beats?”

“You guys ready?” the owner of the Brownhouse asked. His eyes were red, though whether it was from crying or too much weed, they couldn't really tell. His dark circles and unshaven stubble gave off such a wretched air of misery that it could have just been both.

“Born ready, mate,” Murdoc said, walking towards the stage. “Let's go.”

2-D backed away from the curtain he was peeking through. “Wait, wot're we called again?”

“Just get out here, idiot!” Murdoc snapped. Russel and Noodle had already walked up on stage, drawing a cheer from the crowd outside.

The place was packed. Good. Whiffy Smiffy's presence was enough to draw people in, so Murdoc hadn't even bothered to advertise in any local papers. In fact, the papers did it all for him, free of charge. He made sure to put that saved money to better use. Mainly through booze and cigarettes. Money well-spent, in his opinion. Russel seemed to think otherwise.

2-D stumbled onto the stage and fiddled with his mic-stand. They had set it too low.

Anna couldn't help but gape at this band's frontman, and she lifted the welding glasses from her face to get a better look at him. He had a shock of blue hair standing every which way, and his all-black eyes unsettled her. She almost thought he had no eyes at all, but, upon looking a little closer, she saw light caught within them like twin black holes. He was a lanky guy, over six foot, and seemed nervous as he fixed the mic-stand the previous stage-hand had set at his chest.

He wasn’t the only oddity in this band. A kid wearing a helmet stood not far off tuning her guitar. It would explain the strange demographic of small children she saw running amuck around the place. The kid's presence screamed gimmick, but she seemed serious enough as she strummed out a few test riffs, all of which riled up the crowd.

The frontman finally fixed his stand to the appropriate height and, after clearing his throat, began, “Uh, 'ello? Test, test. Oh, that's loud. Righ’.”

The punks elbowed each other and snickered. No doubt this band would be another stinker. Anna had seen this particular group of punks a few times before. For some reason, they seemed to actually like hate-watching the terrible shows at the Camden Brownhouse. She supposed watching awful things on purpose was entertainment in its own right, but it just seemed like a waste of time to her.

The singer squinted down at the general direction of the laughter, but it didn’t seem like he could pick out who in the crowd was doing it. He twiddled his thumbs and looked back at his bandmates, unsure. They nodded at him and he turned to the audience once more.

“'ello, everyone! Fis's our first gig, ‘n we're all glad you could make it tonight. Uh, fanks to Whiffy Smiffy fer comin' too. And, uh, my girlfriend Rachel. Glad you could make it too, love.”

“Just get on with it, Face-Ache!” the bass player hissed.

“Righ’! So we're...uh....”

2-D clapped a hand over his microphone and whispered, “Wait, wot's our band name?”

The little kid ran up to the microphone and jumped as high as she could, yelling, “GORILLAZ!”

The crowd gave an encouraging cheer that made her grin. Anna slipped her welding glasses back over her face.

The drummer hit out a fast beat and the other members of the band began their parts. The frontman nodded in time to the guitar riff then clapped rhythmically after they paused their playing. He strained his voice into a sharp, frustrated whine and the punks scattered around the crowd went wild.

Anna stood transfixed by the frontman's sudden change in demeanor. Waves of sheer aggression poured from the stage, infecting the audience in a massive way. They all shifted closer to the stage, squishing Anna so she could barely move.

The frontman shouted the lyrics, pausing every now and then to clap. The audience clapped along with him in an unsynchronized beat that made Anna wince. The band didn't seemed deterred by this, however. In fact, the bass player seemed encouraged by it based on his leering grin.

When the kid began her first guitar solo, the crowd unhinged. Punks threw things around. Girls screamed bloody murder. Kids cried. Seemingly normal-looking people even headbanged along with the rest. It was like being caught in a typhoon, and Anna couldn't help but be swept by the excited tides. By the time the band reached the end of the song, the Brownhouse sounded like a zoo, complete with wild screeching that would put even the angriest howler monkey to shame. It was madness. It was chaos. And Anna was totally, completely enraptured by it all.

These guys—Gorillaz, she reminded herself—were the real deal.

A gunshot fired not far off from her.

The crowd suddenly scattered like cockroaches exposed to light. Someone smacked the welding glasses from her face as they flailed in panic, but Anna was too caught up in her own panic to care. She was shoved off toward the source of the shot, and without thinking, she dove under the blue curtain that served as the Brownhouse's makeshift backstage area and curled up. She covered her head with her hands and hoped to God that the shooter wouldn’t find her.

The crowd screamed as they rushed for the doors. A couple more shots sounded. Anna felt something fall on her head and she jerked up, startled, only for a piece of plaster to clatter to the floor. She stared at it in disbelief then looked up.

She had counted at least three shots. Three smoking holes laid in the ceiling of the Camden Brownhouse.

The front doors closed with a loud, final _bang_ , wreathing the place in eerie silence.

For a moment, all Anna could hear was her own shallow, panicked breaths, then low voices from on-stage floated to her. Slowly, ever so slowly, she pushed herself to her feet.

“Wot'd I tell you, Smiffy? I knew the crowd would go nuts for us, but, well, I guess I didn't anticipate how nuts they would all get, y’know,” a gruff voice said.

“I can't believe some girls actually tried’a grope you. The hell is up wit’ people in dis town?” a deeper voice asked with a hint of a sigh.

“Wait, Murdoc! They were givin' ya their numbers! Look!”

Murdoc patted his back pockets then fished out a few crumpled slips of paper. Some had little hearts scribbled around the numbers while others even had messy kiss marks smirched onto them. He grinned at the slips and shoved them back into his pockets.

He glanced down at 2-D's feet and his grin grew. “Looks like ya got a few offers yerself, mate.”

2-D frowned down at the scattered bits of paper. “Well, that's nice 'n all, but I already got Rachel. Don't need no one else, really. I’m a lil' sad she left early, though. Musta been the gunshots.”

Murdoc snorted. “No kidding. I'll just take those off yer hands then,” he said as he stooped down to pick up the phone numbers.

Anna peeked up at the stage. The band looked unscathed as they signed a long sheet of paper Whiffy Smiffy held out to them. She spotted a large gun holstered in the talent agent's jeans and hesitated in the darkness.

Unfortunately, the kid just so happened to glance over at her in the next instant. She tugged at the drummer's pant leg and pointed at her, saying something in what Anna recognized as Japanese. She had taken two years of it in college. It wasn’t enough to hold much of a conversation, or even be considered fluent, really, but she could at least understand “woman” and “over there”. The band looked over at the shadowy backstage corner, taken aback that anyone else was even still there.

Anna's eyes fell to the gun at Whiffy Smiffy's hip and she put her hands up as she walked into the light. “S-Sorry,” she said. She had no idea why she was apologizing. “I was just trying to avoid the gunfire, and...um....”

The bass player gave her a slow once-over, his eyes pausing at the press badge hanging from her hip. A dark grin cracked across his face as he swiveled away from the contract to her.

“You a reporter?” he asked.

She swallowed the rest of her nervous words and simply nodded.

His grin transformed into an amused smirk. “Well, wot’re you standin’ around for, then? Why not land an interview with a soon-to-be-famous band? You saw how mad this crowd was. Imagine wot kind of publicity that could buy...er.... Who do you work for?”

Anna stood up straight and replied, “Sound Underground _._ ” He frowned at her, apparently not recognizing the name, so she added, “It's a local music magazine. We're kinda small, but....”

He squinted at her, and her heart fell. Would they not bother talking to her at all now? Sure, she had only come out here to write a small introductory piece about who they were and what genre they played, but this guy was right. Landing a full-scale interview with a band that drove its listeners _this_ insane would make their readership skyrocket. Word traveled fast around here, and if she could get her aunt's magazine to formally introduce this band to Essex, then....

“Yer accent...” he said, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Are you American by any chance?”

She blinked. “Uh...yeah, I am. What does that have to do with anything?”

Instead of answering her question, he yelled over his shoulder, “Oi, Russ! C'mere a sec, mate.”

The gigantic drummer thundered over to them, the kid clinging onto his shoulder like a little monkey. “Yeah? Wassup?” he drawled.

The bass player gestured over at her. “Looks like you ain't the only Yank in Essex anymore. This bird's from the States, too.”

He perked up at this. “Oh, cool, cool. What part you from?” the drummer asked, sounding genuinely interested.

Anna peered up into his pearly eyes, wondering if he was blind. No, if he was, then he’d be looking at the approximation of where she stood and not right at her, right? She almost wanted to ask him about it, but couldn't think of a way to do that without sounding rude.

“L.A.,” she replied after shaking away her awe.

“Oh, cool. I got family there. Grew up in Brooklyn, dough.”

She offered him a friendly smile. “That's cool, man.”

After digging out a hair clip from her purse, she pinned her dark bangs out of the way. “So, um, for the interview—”

The kid gasped and pointed at the clip. “Pokémon!”

“Wha'? Where?” the singer asked, turning around in circles until he nearly tripped over a wire.

Anna hid a smile behind her hand and said, “My hair clip. It's a Pokéball.”

The bassist raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you play that animal game, too, then? 2-D ‘n Noodle are mad about it.”

“Pokémon!” the little girl corrected him. She climbed down the drummer's shoulder and ran right up to Anna. “ _Pikachu ga daisuki!”_ she yelled, throwing her hands in the air. _“Soshite, Rizardon to Rokon to—_ ”

The drummer, Russ, clapped a hand on her shoulder and said, “Whoa, slow down, Noods!”

He turned back to Anna with an apologetic grin. “Sorry 'bout dat. She gets real excited sometimes, y'know?”

Anna smiled. “It's okay. I actually knew most of what she was saying.” She bent down and said, “Ah... _Pikachu mou daisuki. Eto..._ Charizard _mou_?”

The kid tilted her head. Anna’s smile grew more strained. In halting Japanese, she said, “Sorry, my Japanese is not very good.”

The kid laughed a little and shook her head. “ _Daijoubu_.”

“Thanks. Er, I mean, _arigatou_.”

Russ laughed. “'s okay. She undastands English a bit betta dan she speaks it.”

“Wha's fis about Pokémon? I 'eard somefink about Pikachu ‘n Charizard,” the singer said as he stumbled up to them at last. He towered over everyone and Anna had to crane her head to look up at him.

Murdoc threw him a glare that went ignored for the most part. They were supposed to be discussing his band, not some stupid kiddy animal game.

“Oh, yeah. I was just talking to...er....” Anna faltered and held a hand out to the kid helplessly.

“ _Nuudoru da!_ ”

Anna blinked. “Noodle?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, dat's her name. Least, dat's what she calls herself,” Russ replied.

Her heart sank when she looked at each member of the band. She hadn't even asked any of them their names yet.

_Nice job, Anna. Amateur._

She stood up straighter to regain at least some semblance of professionalism. “Sorry, I don't think I've properly introduced myself. I'm Anna Santos from the local music magazine Sound Underground. Would it be okay to interview all of you right now?”

Murdoc sensed his chance to seize the conversation back. “'Course it's okay, love. Let's you 'n me get outta this dump and find somewhere real quiet to chat.”

Whiffy sauntered up to the group and stuttered, as if it were painful for him to speak, “Uh, the label will be, uh, throwin’ you all, uh, a party tomorrow. I’ll, uh, send for someone to, uh, pick you all up.”

Murdoc grinned. “Great. It better be a real decadent bash. I take it there’ll be no expenses on our part?”

Whiffy shook his head. “The label, uh, will pay for it. You guys, uh, are worth it.”

“You better believe it, mate. Now!” He slung an arm around Anna’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Where are you takin’ us tonight, love?”

She hunched her shoulders up in a feeble attempt to hide her blushing face. While the bass player seemed to think nothing of wrapping his arm around her, Anna had nearly jumped out of her skin. The touch was overly familiar, and it made her stomach churn.

“Th-There's a café nearby that's pretty cheap if you guys wanna talk there,” she managed to sputter. “The Brownhouse is...well....”

She glanced around the trashed pub, pitying a few people who seemed to have been trampled in the panic earlier. They lied sprawled about, but still breathing.

“Dat sounds good. Noodle hasn't had dinna yet, and I'm kinda hungry, too,” Russ admitted.

Murdoc gestured ahead of him. “Lead the way.”

* * *

“I'm glad this place is still open. I was afraid they wouldn't run this late,” Anna said after the group was led to a booth.

“Nine is late fer you?” the bass player asked, raising an eyebrow.

She peered down at her menu with an intense interest, unsure of how to respond.

In fact, she wasn’t sure what to think of this entire night. Normally, Anna would have been home writing that introductory article her aunt assigned her by now. Interviews were way out of her comfort zone, and she counted herself lucky that her aunt was more than understanding of that. Anna fumbled over her words when she talked to strangers. Her chest would seize and her hands would start to tremble in a slow self-destruction that sent her reeling until she could find a quiet place to compose herself again. She often ducked out of conversations at work to avoid the inevitable awkwardness these attacks caused.

And yet, here she was at a café with four outlandish rock stars offering to interview them. Maybe she was still in shock from the gunfire earlier, or maybe she had been more swept up in the madness and chaos they produced than she thought, but Anna felt oddly at ease around them all. Noodle’s presence comforted her most. She reminded Anna of her own little sisters back in L.A..

Little Noodle had perched herself next to her and was utterly taken by the games on her kids' menu. Russ lost a few games of tic-tac-toe available on the paper—on purpose, Anna guessed, all to see her victorious, toothy grin. Even the band’s frontman got caught up doodling a fish with a blue crayon.

Murdoc snorted. “Buncha kids, the lot of you.”

The singer turned to him with a shy smile. “Like my fish, Muds?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, wotever.”

“You didn' even look at it.”

He lolled his head back in theatrical exasperation then sat back up to look at Anna. “Weeeellll now, I think it's right time fer that interview, yeah?” he groaned.

She took up her pen and sat up straight. “Oh, right! Um....”

Before she had a chance to think of a question, a waitress flitted up to them and asked if they were ready to order drinks. The singer looked about ready to order, but the bass player cleared his throat and said, “I'll take an espresso. Black. Which, coincidentally, is the color of my soul, baby.” He winked at the waitress, and she giggled.

“I'll 'ave the same fing!” the singer added then looked over to the bassist for approval. Unfortunately, he was too caught up in making eyes at the waitress. She hid her own smile under her notepad as she scribbled down everyone’s orders.

Murdoc's eyes trailed after her until she disappeared into the kitchen. He blinked, and his gaze snapped back to Anna in that instant.

“So...Gorillaz,” he began, pausing on the name as if he were just getting used to it. “Like the great beasts themselves, but with a zed at the end, mind you, not an 's'. I, Murdoc Niccals, bass player extraordinaire and undeniable leader of the band—”

“What?” the drummer snapped his head up. “Ain't nobody agreed to dat, Muds! A band's s'posed to be a team effort, not a one-man show. 'Specially if dat show's run by _you_.”

Murdoc rolled his eyes. “Look, Tubby, it's my band whether you like it or not. You wouldn't even be here if it weren't fer me, so shut yer gob 'n let me handle this, yeah?”

The drummer raised a warning fist. “Man, don't make me break yo' wonky nose anotha time.”

Murdoc put his hands up in an almost pleading surrender. “Awright, awright, cool yer jets. I was only joshin', Russ. Honest.” His sharp-toothed grin was a weak appeal to his mercy.

Russ frowned at him but soon went back to doodling on Noodle's kids' menu along with her.

“'Another time'?” Anna repeated, intrigued.

Murdoc waved his hands frantically in front of him. “D-D-Don't write that down! 's not important!”

She glanced up at him then crossed out the small note she had already written about it.

“Uh, right, so I started the band last year when I met 2-D—”

“Knocked me in the 'ead wif ‘is car. Twice,” 2-D cut in, sounding oddly proud about it. “'s why my eyes're all dark. Eight-ball fracture, they call it. My doctors, not me.”

Anna gaped at Murdoc in disbelief. “You hit him with your car? _Twice?_ ”

“No, wai’, it was only once. My second eye fractured when I flew out the front window of ‘is car in Notting’am one time 'n landed flat on my face.”

Her disapproving look at Murdoc made 2-D flap his hands in a panic. “But it turned out awright in the end!” he insisted. “See, I was in a coma from the first time 'e 'it me, but the second 'it brought me back 'round again. So it all balanced out. 'sides, 'e offaed me to be lead singa for 'is band as an apology, so I said, 'Okay!' and went along wif it. And I like it, singin' 'n all. 's fun.”

Murdoc let out a barking laugh and smacked 2-D's back. “We've been mates since, eh, 2-D?”

2-D smiled over at him. “Yeah, that's righ'!”

Poor kid.

Anna scribbled, _2-D, spacy, pretty boy frontman with a penchant for bad luck._

“Not long after that,” Murdoc continued, “I picked up Russ, er, Russel Hobbs here workin' at some dinky record shop in Soho.”

Russel snorted. “'Picked up'.... Foo’ up 'n kidnapped me 'n took me to his studio. I neva woulda stayed if his demos weren't dope.”

Anna paused her writing to look up at him. He didn't seem as if he were joking.

“Of course, I knew I had'a add my fresh beats to the demos aftawards. Muds's a decent drum playa, but he ain't got nothin' on my beat machine,” he added with a sagely nod.

Murdoc made a face at this, but didn’t even try to defend himself. Russel’s threat from earlier still echoed in his mind.

Anna scribbled down a few notes about Russel, excluding the kidnapping bit. She still wasn't sure if that was some morbid joke or not. It had to be...right? Both 2-D and Russel were talking about kidnapping and aggravated assault as if they were minor annoyances, at best. She threw Noodle a wary glance, hoping that Murdoc wouldn’t have some story about how he illegally acquired _her_.

He noticed her hesitation. Before he could say anything, however, the waitress returned with their drinks. She seemed to have taken the time to touch up her hair and make-up, and she handed Murdoc his espresso first. A slip of paper poked out from under the cup and she winked at him before handing everyone else their drinks and heading off to help some other customers.

He scanned over the paper with an amused leer then put it in his pocket with the other phone numbers he scooped up earlier. “Looks like I'll be having a very full night on my hands,” he said with a low chuckle. “Let's wrap up the intros quickly now.”

He gestured at Noodle coloring in the bird she had drawn. “Last but not least, I found Noodle.”

At this, she looked up.

“Er, rather, she found us. See, she was delivered to Kong, our studio, in a large FedEx crate right after I put up an ad in NME. Not even ten seconds later, really.”

“Noodle jus' burst outta the crate, started speakin' some gibberish, then unleashed fis massive guitar riff wot sounded like two 'undred demons screamin' in Arabic. It was brilliant!” 2-D added.

“Yeah, then she just said one word after: Noodle. So, that's wot we called 'er, and it stuck. Dunno her real name, 'n I dunno how to ask 'er,” Murdoc finished.

“I’m tryin'a learn Japanese, so I can communicate wit' her. It's a slow process,” Russel said.

“It _is_ a hard language to learn,” Anna admitted with a knowing tilt of her head.

Murdoc shoved his cup to the edge of the table. “Right, so, now that introductions are outta the way, wot else d'ya wanna ask us, love?”

His anticross necklace spilled out from under his jacket as he leaned forward.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, you're a metalhead!”

Murdoc was used to people scoffing at his darker music tastes, but this reporter girl seemed genuinely excited about it. She didn’t seem the type to like heavy metal, what with her grungy, flannel look going on, but he wasn’t complaining. At least she had taste.

He slapped on a grin. “Love, not all metalheads are Satanists, and the few that are aren't that serious about it. It’s just an image thing to them. But me? I'm the real deal. Even sold my soul to the Man Down Below for the bass I have now, El Diablo. Totally worth it, y’know. We're gonna make it big ‘cause ‘a that baby. Yer lucky to be the first reporter to snatch an interview from me.”

Anna blinked. Did he really just say he traded his soul to the Devil for a bass?

She laughed, a short, startled noise that she muffled with a hand. He was joking around. Of course he was! That grin of his gave it all away. There was no real way he would've hit 2-D with his car and have the singer be okay with it. There was no way a guy as big as Russel would even let himself be kidnapped like that. Hell, Noodle was probably just mentoring under them or something. The band was just messing with her because they could tell she had never done an actual interview before! It was all one big joke to loosen her up and get her to ask the real questions.

She would play along, then. Let them know she was in on it.

“Oh, so the Devil himself has a bass named 'The Devil'?” she asked, leaning her head on her hand.

Murdoc's grin only grew and he leaned further across the table to her. “Pride is one of the seven deadly sins for a reason.” He gave her a decisive once-over, and she got the sense that she was right to play along. It seemed to amuse the bass player, at any rate, and maybe she would start to get some serious answers from him.

“You know, you should drop by Kong Studios sometime. Watch us record our new album, grab a few more interviews, wotever suits yer fancy,” he said. The lewd wheels in his head had been turning ever since she emerged from the darkness earlier. He could get more than interviews from her, if he played his cards right.

Noodle turned to Anna and spoke in rapid-fire Japanese. It was probably something to do with how excited she was about the idea, though she did mention something about Pokémon again.

Russel got her to calm down but couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm anyway. “I thank she wants to show you all the Pokémon she collected on her Gameboy. She's real proud of 'em.”

Noodle nodded so vigorously that she had to readjust her helmet when it started to slip.

Anna chuckled. “Well, Noodle, maybe I can show you the Pokémon I have, too.”

Noodle's smile grew at the idea.

The waitress came back to take all their orders, and a wave of strong perfume wafted over the table, making Anna nearly gag. Noodle wrinkled her nose in distaste, but the men pretended not to notice. She would smile over at Murdoc every now and then as she took everyone's orders, and he would grin or wink back at her each and every time. Based on the way she strutted towards the kitchen after, she seemed very aware that the bass player's eyes had fixed themselves on her rather well-developed backside.

Anna managed to ask them what genre they were ( _zombie hip-hop_ , she wrote) and for Kong Studio’s address before their food arrived and they began to scarf it all down. Anna had ordered nothing, and was starting to regret it when the mouthwatering smells wafted around her.

They finished up only minutes later. Anna scribbled down the magazine office's number and offered it to Murdoc. “Feel free to call us for future interviews, and remember to check out our next issue when it comes out!” she said, pressing the number into his palm.

He curled his fingers under hers then gave them a short squeeze before pulling away. “Will do, love. And you come up to Kong anytime you please.”

“Really? You won't be busy or anything?”

“'s no trouble. 'sides, I thank Noods wants you to visit, right?” Russel asked.

“ _Hai!”_

Anna smiled. “Well, I'll be sure to come over then.”

Murdoc grinned. He hit the jackpot tonight, and now it was time to reap the rewards he collected from their gig. He wouldn't dare keep those lovely, young things waiting any longer.

“Okay then. It's settled. 2-D, pay the bill, wouldja?” he said as started for the door.

“Wai’, me?”

Russel sighed. “I'll pay fer half, 'D.”

“Oh, I can pay the other half,” Anna offered. “I asked you all out here anyway.”

After paying a few quid to their waitress, who seemed disappointed that Murdoc left early, they all ducked out into the cold November night and ventured back to the Brownhouse.

“'ey, thanks fo’ payin' the other half. You really didn't have to since you didn't eat,” Russel said with a grateful smile.

Anna shrugged. “It's the least I can do.”

A car horn sounded from not far off. Murdoc poked his head out the window of what looked like a big Jeep. “Oi, you lot hurry up! I got several dates waitin' fer me!” he yelled.

Russel groaned. “A’ight, man, geez! We comin'!”

He threw Anna an apologetic smile. “We gotta go. See ya later.”

“Bye bye!” Noodle said as she followed Russel to the car.

“It was nice talkin' to ya.... Uh, sorry, wot's yer name again?” 2-D asked.

“Oh, uh, Anna. Anna Santos,” she replied.

A long, irritated car honk pierced the air. “Let's _go_ , Face-Ache! I don't got all night!”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “You better go,” she said, ushering him forward with an unsure hand on his arm. “See you later.”

He gave a short wave and jogged towards the Jeep.

Anna watched as he clambered into the car. A few tense words were exchanged, and then, Murdoc completed what had to be the most illegal U-turn she had ever seen in her life. Several nearby cars blared their horns at him, and one even veered off the road and hit a lamppost as they tried to avoid his mad steering. He cackled like some B-movie villain then stomped on the accelerator and took off into the night.

The car horns continued to sound at each other as they sorted themselves out again, crying out at the sudden disorganization. It was the Brownhouse all over again, only these people weren't enjoying themselves in the slightest. Anna couldn't help but wonder if Murdoc Niccals brought chaos with him wherever he went, or if he was a proponent of the chaos around him. Judging by the knotted traffic before her, it was most likely the latter. Those stories he made up about how he had met each member of the band certainly made it seem like he reveled in that sort of thing.

They were an interesting bunch, to put it mildly.

Anna shook her head and walked over to her own car a block away with a skip in her step. She had some warm lasagna to look forward to, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is the song "The Mob Rules" by Black Sabbath.
> 
> I plan to use Gorillaz's musical and movie influences and their own songs as chapter titles, just so y'all know.
> 
> Aaaaah, this is my first Gorillaz fic, so please tell me if everyone sounds in-character or not. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated, especially since I'm a dumbass American with zero knowledge of British slang.
> 
> This is also my first fic I've posted on Ao3. I've been using FF.net forever, so I'm not used to this format. Am I doing this right? Who knows.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I will try to update a chapter every Friday or so.


	2. Black Dog

Much to Nora's surprise, her niece turned in a full-scale interview the next morning. She thought Anna was too shy to even attempt something like this, but here it was. She couldn't very well turn it away, even if it wasn't exactly what she asked for. At least it would make a nice change of pace for their readers.

She flapped the pages out and began to read:

 _Gorillaz_ _—The Rising Talents_

_Interview conducted by Anna Santos_

_When one hears a gig is being played at the Camden Brownhouse, there is usually little excitement over the prospect. The pub seems to curse all the live musicians that play there, from the rock band Raw Bacon's short-lived careers—an unexaggerated two minutes before they were booed off the stage (for details, please see_ Sound Underground _Volume 76)—to the local punks that made up the band Smash Your Head, also short-lived._

_Word of EMI's Whiffy Smiffy attending the new Brownhouse gig, however, was enough to draw in a bizarre, eclectic group of attendees, all ranging in their musical tastes. Punks uneasily mingled with hippies, small children with gigantic adults, and everyday men and women with the more outrageous groups from the depths of Essex._

_What kind of band hoped to break the mold? All of Essex seemed curious enough to grant them a chance. Rightfully so. The Brownhouse was brought to utter chaos with just one song._

_Just who are the masterminds behind the madness?_

_Introducing 2-D, the spacy, pretty boy frontman with a penchant for bad luck, Noodle, a remarkable prodigy with the gift of killer riffs, and Russel Hobbs, the tough beat machine that can't be beat. Led by their audacious Satanic bass player, Murdoc Niccals_ —

Nora’s eyes lingered over the name. The sight wrenched her gut and her hands began to tremble. Of all the rock stars for Anna to interview....

She pushed a button on the intercom. “Anna, please come to my office. _Right now_.”

Her niece knocked on her door just a few seconds after the announcement was made. “Hey, Aunt Nora,” she greeted with a bright smile. “What's up?”

Nora finally looked up from the interview. “Sit down, Anna,” she said, slow and deliberate.

Anna's smile fell, but she did as she was asked without question.

“I'm proud that you managed to get this interview,” her aunt began, weighing her words carefully. “And it's good from what I read so far.”

Anna shifted in her seat. “But...?”

“I'm just concerned about _who_ you interviewed last night,” she sighed. “Murdoc Niccals isn't the kind of man who would let a girl off with just the one interview.”

“Well, he did say he was willing to do more with the band whenever I felt like it,” Anna replied, her bright smile returning. “I thought that was nice of him. I mean, for a small magazine like ours—”

“That's not what I meant, Anna,” her aunt snapped. “He has a...reputation.”

Anna frowned. “What kind of reputation?”

Nora put a hand to her head with a lengthy sigh. “He's been in several bands before Gorillaz. I've covered a couple of 'em in the past. None of them lasted very long, but that didn't stop him from using that status to try and sleep with any woman willing to open their legs to him. Or to try and coerce the unwilling ones.” She made a face, like the very idea had left a bad taste in her mouth.

The memory of his arm around her sent a warm flush to her cheeks. “...Oh.”

“Yeah, well, you're lucky the rest of the band was with you. Who knows what sordid things he might've done or even _suggested_ if you had interviewed him one-on-one,” her aunt scoffed. “Can't be too naive in the music industry, you know.”

Murdoc's invitation from last night echoed in her head: “ _You know, you should drop by Kong Studios sometime. Watch us record our new album, grab a few more interviews, wotever suits yer fancy.”_

All those times he looked at her up and down weren't signs of approval of her budding interviewing skills, she realized.

He was checking her out.

“R-Right.” Her voice came out in a surprised wheeze. “Thanks for warning me.”

After skimming over the rest of the interview, Nora pressed her lips together but gave a curt nod. “It's a solid interview, though. I'll publish it in next week’s issue,” she reassured her.

Anna smiled, just a little. “Okay. Thanks, Aunt Nora.”

Her aunt didn’t return the smile. “Just learn to be a little more careful next time.”

She held back the urge to grimace at the condescending note in her aunt’s voice. Instead, she smiled a little wider and left without another word.

The next issue's cover was of a local band her aunt liked. They were still confined to Essex venues for now, but they had a decent enough following around the area. An announcement of Anna's interview was stamped all over the cover in bold letters. Word got around about the Brownhouse incident, and their sales jumped to the thousands. They sold copies faster than they could print them, a fact that both excited and overwhelmed her aunt and the rest of the employees working for the small magazine. More readers meant more money, and more money meant they could accomplish more, but that also meant that these new readers would expect more from them as well. It was a daunting task, to say the least.

Still, Anna was up for the challenge. She owed her aunt too much to let her readers down now.

The office had been flooded with phone calls as of late, so she paid no special heed to the one she picked up about six days after landing her first interview. “Hello, this is Anna Santos, writer and editor for Sound Underground. How may I help you?” she asked, using that professional tone she honed throughout much of the week.

“ _Oh, so you_ are _there_ ,” a familiar voice drawled. “ _Yer stupid secretary said you mighta been too busy t' talk to me._ ”

She blinked and held the phone away from her ear to look at it in disbelief.

“Wait, Murdoc?” she asked, cupping the receiver with a hand in case her aunt happened to be lurking nearby. “Why're you calling me?”

“ _Well, you did give me yer number, love._ ”

“Oh...right.” Anna glanced over her shoulder then turned back to the phone when she was sure her coworkers were too busy to eavesdrop. “Look, I'm not too busy right now, but I might be called to help with something later. So make this quick.”

“ _Awright. When're you planning to come over? You promised Noodle, y'know, and she's been pestering me about seeing you again. Frankly, I'm eager to see you myself,_ ” he said with a low chuckle.

“...I see. How were your dates from the night I interviewed you?”

Murdoc hummed. “ _Ooooh, they were all lovely. That waitress I had was very vigorous. Quite nice, really. I'll have to call ‘er back sometime._ ”

“Okay, well, you go do that. I have some work to do. See you later.”

“ _W-Wait! So are you coming up to Kong or not?_ ” The pleading note in his voice almost made her laugh. Was he really that desperate? She couldn’t possibly be better company than that waitress, sex appeal, or lack of in her case, or otherwise.

“I'll go after work,” she consented as she spun her desk chair around. “I'd like to talk to you guys about the new issue anyway, if that's alright. And tell Noodle I'm bringing my Gameboy, too.”

“ _Great! See ya then, love._ ”

He hung up in the next second. All Anna hoped was that he understood that, while she wasn't going to visit for purely professional reasons, that didn't mean he could make a pass at her. Maybe her enthusiasm for Pokémon might turn him off. It _was_ a rather childish indulgence on her part, so maybe he might see her as too much of a child to take too seriously.

It would be a pain asking her aunt for permission to go. She understood that men like Murdoc Niccals were not to be taken lightly, but the rest of the band seemed like such nice people. Besides, between showing Noodle her Pokémon and discussing the success of the interview with them, Murdoc probably wouldn't find an inch to flirt with her.

Explaining and re-explaining the situation to her aunt went as painfully as she thought it would.

“You have your pepper spray just in case?” her aunt asked her for the hundredth time. “Make sure you have it near you if you see Murdoc.”

“Ugh, _okay_ ,” Anna groaned. Her car stuck out of her parking space at an odd angle, and it irritated her how long pedestrians would gawk at her and her aunt as they walked around it. This was no reason for people to stare this much, surely.

Her aunt pursed her lips at her attitude. “Just...remember not to go off with Murdoc alone,” she added, quieter this time.

Anna lolled her head back in exasperation. “Aunt Nora, I _know_. I'll just be talking to them about the interview and Pokémon anyway.”

Once she was sure the road was clear, she steered out of her spot and drove away without giving her aunt a proper goodbye. Her smothering was getting to be unbearable. Anna was a grown adult, for crying out loud. She knew how to handle herself.

The drive to Kong was quite short, though, all things considered, the studio's distance from the magazine office wasn't what surprised her most. She had already spotted the building sitting atop the hill from the freeway, but she would never have suspected the hill to be so outrageously steep nor the area around it to reek so much of sour, old garbage. Anna lifted her shirt up to cover her nose, but even that barely masked the horrid stench wafting around like a dense fog.

She parked a few blocks down just so her car wouldn't stew along with the rest of the waste. It would take weeks for that smell to get out if she left her car parked longer than a few minutes. Hell, the smell was already in her clothes. She couldn't imagine living in the suburbs clustered around the dump that squatted below the studio. The smell would drive any sensible person away, and yet, there the shabby houses stood, erect and even a little proud. Once she reached the bottom of the hill, she broke into a full-on sprint, hoping that the stench would at least fade the higher she rose.

The smell did indeed fade, much to her relief, but it was soon replaced by some other musty odor, like freshly overturned dirt mixed with some strange chemical she couldn't identify. Anna panted as she reached the top of the hill. The front gates had the word _KONG_ welded across them with what looked like some old pipes. At least she knew she made it to the right place. She groaned when she realized that the studio itself was perched on an even higher stone spire that loomed over—

She gaped at the sight before her. “A cemetery...?” she whispered.

Numerous headstones sprouted out of the ground like unsightly weeds. The names and dates had been worn away by the elements, forgotten and unloved. The place oozed omnisity and danger, but she couldn't turn away now. She had promised them all that she would visit, so that's what she would do.

The gates creaked open with the slightest touch of her hand, and a sudden wind picked up behind her, urging her on. She trudged through the muddy cemetery, head held high and magazine clutched tight. The road leading up to the studio seemed big enough to hold a car, and she regretted parking so far away. If she had known about this road, she would have at least attempted driving all the way up to Kong instead of walking the distance.

It felt like an eternity before she reached the studio's inner gates. She slumped against their front door to catch her breath, letting herself slide to the ground in wearied frustration. “Jesus, how the hell can anyone live here?” she grumbled.

The door opened in the next instant. Anna flailed to keep herself upright. Noodle peeked through the crack in the door and grinned upon finding it was her. Several booming steps approached soon after.

“Noods, what'd I tell you 'bout....” Russel paused when he saw Anna on the ground.

Noodle pointed down at her. “Anna-san!”

She stood up hastily, brushing the dirt away. “Oh, uh, hi, guys,” she said, giving an awkward wave. “Murdoc called me earlier to talk to you all about the interview. And he said something about Noodle and Pokémon. Which is why I brought this.” She brandished her Gameboy Color from her pocket.

Noodle squealed in delight.

Russel chuckled as he stepped aside to let her in. “A'ight. Lemme show you to the livin' room. 'D and Muds're there playin’ Mario Kart.”

With the extremely putrid dump surrounding the bottom like some horrid moat and the graveyard poking up on top, Anna really shouldn’t have been surprised at what awaited her inside what had to be the world’s strangest studio. And yet….

“What’s with the…?” She gestured at a smiling blue ape hanging from a rope in the middle of the hall as they all exited the elevator.

Russel shook his head immediately. “Muds decorated the place,” he explained. “So hell if I know.”

Shouting pealed out of a nearby room, but Russel just looked bored as he shoved the door open.

Murdoc sat hunched, fumbling over the controller as he tried to lead Bowser away from a Thwomp, only to end up crushed by the one next to it. 2-D zipped by him as Yoshi, giggling madly to himself all the way.

“My controller’s broken!” Murdoc howled, tossing it to the ground in frustration. “This Bowser character’s rubbish! Stupid sod won’t go where I tell it to!”

“Murdoc, the race is still on,” 2-D pointed out right as he entered the second lap.

He let out a string of curses but scooped his controller back up and kept driving.

Anna snorted as she, Russel, and Noodle strolled in. “Having fun?” she asked, leaning over the top of the couch to watch them.

2-D spared only a short glance at her. “Oh! Hi, Anna!”

Murdoc whirled around in such an exaggerated fashion that it was almost cartoonish. “Anna! Wha—It’s only four!” he yelled. Bowser veered off a bridge and he turned back to the screen with a frustrated, “ _Fuck!_ ”

Both Russel and Noodle cackled at his misfortune, but he was too wrapped up in the game to care.

“I told you I’d come after work. I’m done now, so….”

“Pokémon?” Noodle asked, taking her Gameboy out of her coat.

Anna smiled as she flicked on the switch of her Gameboy Color. “Pokémon,” she agreed.

As it turned out, Murdoc and 2-D continued to play for another hour. The stubborn bassist wanted to win not just one race, but the entire cup. He finally managed it after some time, though, Anna suspected as she glanced up from her second battle with Noodle, 2-D had just let him win to shut him up.

Murdoc shut the console off with an unnecessary flourish as he turned to the two girls and Russel sitting cross-legged on the floor. A tangled cable connected both their Gameboys together, and neither of them looked up when 2-D and Murdoc approached them.

“Well, it’s nice of you to come, love. Ah, let’s talk about that interview now, shall we?” Murdoc said in place of a greeting.

“Mmm, yeah, after,” Anna mumbled.

“Wot?”

“Battling.”

“Oooh! ‘o’s winnin’?” 2-D asked, plunking his lanky self right next to her.

Anna winced when her Charizard took a massive critical hit. “Noodle,” she sighed. “Her Pokémon are _tough_.”

Noodle grinned at this but didn’t look up.

Murdoc frowned. “Uh...that’s all well ‘n good, but—”

“Oh! No, you made my Charizard faint!” Anna wailed, startling him.

2-D pouted. “Yeah, she’s really good at it. I’ve neva beaten 'er! Not even once!”

Noodle snickered and said something Anna couldn’t quite make out.

“Uh...I thank she said some proverb ‘bout losin’,” Russel translated loosely.

“ _Hai_ ,” the little girl agreed. “ _Anna-san makeru.”_

Anna’s smile was more taken aback than happy. “Hey!” she yelled. She tried to sound stern, but her giggles betrayed her. “Ah! My Gyarados too? C’mon!”

2-D scooted closer to her. “Wot level did ya raise ‘em all to anyway?” he asked.

Murdoc bristled. Ever since that Rachel bird broke up with him the day of the signing party, 2-D had withdrawn from everyone else. Sure, he was still at Murdoc’s beck-and-call, but other than the times Russel forced him to eat meals with him and Noodle (a courtesy that was not extended to him, Murdoc Niccals), he had holed himself up in his room messing around with his synths.

Oh, he understood what the doe-eyed bastard was up to. But _he_ saw her first, and it was an unspoken rule between the two of them to never go after the same bird. Sure, he shagged Paula, but, in his defense, she jumped him first.

“Anna, love, I _really_ think we should—”

Noodle shrieked all of a sudden, and it took a moment of gathering his wits again for Murdoc to realize she was laughing. Anna groaned at her defeat, earning her a sympathetic pat on the back from 2-D.

“‘s okay. Noods’s jus’ really, _really_ good.”

Noodle smiled over at him. “Too-chee! Pokémon!” she urged him. Anna hid a laugh behind a hand upon hearing the cute nickname.

2-D blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, I dunno….”

“C’mon!” Anna insisted, nudging his shoulder. “I wanna see your Pokémon, too!”

“Well—”

Murdoc rolled his eyes. “Go on, Face-Ache! Get yer soddin’ game thing—”

“Gameboy.”

“Wotever! Go ‘n get it ‘n play with Noodle fer a bit, yeah? Us grown-ups here need t’ talk business,” Murdoc said, a dark grin cracking across his face.

Anna got up and dusted herself off. “Sorry for making you wait. I brought a magazine with me. It’s on the—”

He brandished a copy from behind his back. “Already bought one, love.”

Her eyes gleamed and she clapped her hands in delight. “Oh good! Thanks for buying one! Let’s go over to the couch and—”

“A-Actually,” he cut in, “I was hoping we could pop into the kitchen ‘n grab a small bite t’ eat first. All that battling must’ve made you famished. I know racing’s done that fer me.”

She unplugged her Gameboy from the cable, which 2-D promptly replaced with his own. “Okay. I could go for some snacks,” she agreed as he led her out of the room.

After the elevator reached the ground floor again, he led her past the studio’s empty front desk, down a long, dusty corridor, and ushered her into the studio’s carpark.

“Well, fuck,” he said, putting on a guise of frustration for a moment. “I coulda _sworn_ this led to the kitchen! I’ve lived here near on three months, y’know, ‘n I’m still not used to the layout of this godforsaken place.”

He shrugged it off soon enough. “Oh well. My Winnebago’s parked rrrright over there. I can probably whip up somethin’ nice.”

Before she could protest, he strolled off to the large van, whistling a tune. A small knot formed in her gut as her aunt’s warnings echoed in her head. She cursed herself for her stupidity. Why had she let him take her away from the only safe place in the studio? There was no way she could back out now without making him suspicious, and who knew what he would do to get her to stay if he realized she had caught on?

She felt for the bottle of pepper spray in her jacket pocket. It was still there. Anna took a deep breath, clutched the bottle in her fist, then trailed after him.

* * *

“Wot’s yer poison? Beer? Wine? Rum?” Murdoc offered her. She sat uneasily on the sofa in the spot closest to the door.

“Nothing, thanks,” she replied. “I don’t drink.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Really?” he asked. He made it sound as if she might as well have admitted to never breathing before.

“Really,” she said, plastering on a fake smile.

He shrugged, popped open a bottle of his drink of choice, then plopped himself beside her. His arm rested on the back of where she was sitting, so she scooted forward. “So…” he began. He took a long swig before he continued, “I liked that epithet you used fer me. ‘Audacious Satanic bass player, Murdoc Niccals’. Good stuff.”

She shifted away from him ever so slightly. “You know, our readers seem really interested in you guys. I keep getting calls from people asking when Gorillaz’s next gig will be, or what kind of genre ‘zombie hip-hop’ even is.”

“Weeeellll, when we get around to recording the rest of album, I think they’ll understand,” he answered cryptically.

After taking another swig, he asked, “How big is yer readership, anyway?”

Anna blushed and stared down at the carpet. “...It’s grown to the low thousands in the past few days,” she replied carefully.

“And wot was it before that?”

Crap, he was perceptive.

She sighed. “It was stuck in the mid-hundreds range for a while,” she admitted. “Enough to keep it afloat, but….”

“But not more ‘n that, eh?” he finished, cracking a playful smirk.

“Yeah.” Anna looked down at the copy of the magazine in her hands. “My aunt was fine with a small, dedicated readership, but I wanted to help it grow. She’s put so much work into it already. I thought it was a shame that hardly anyone read it.”

His smirk grew. “Well, now, isn’t that generous of you?” he crooned, scooting a little closer to her.

She shrugged. “It’s just fair. She paid for my plane ticket here and helped me get my papers sorted out a month or so after I graduated college. She even lets me live with her without paying rent. She keeps saying working for her is enough. But it’s _not_ enough. I keep thinking that if I just get her more readers, I can pay her back without her really knowing, y’know?”

Murdoc raised an eyebrow. She was very earnest about all this, he’d give her that. She hated owing people, and _that_ he could understand. His soul was marked for Hell after he made it big, after all. Sure, he was the one that sold it, but it wasn’t as if he took pleasure in knowing he was slated for eternal damnation once he tasted fame.

“It’s hard for me to find places willing to sell more copies, though,” she sighed. “The newsstands here don’t usually sell ‘zines of our caliber, and the few music shops that do accept us give them out for free. It’s nice for publicity, but we actually lose money that way.”

The gears in Murdoc’s head clicked together and he grinned down at her. “Tell ya wot, love,” he said. “I dunno when we plan t’ do another gig, but wot d’ya say to settin’ up a lil’ stand outside the venue fer yer magazine?”

Her eyes gleamed at the idea. “You’d let me do that?”

His arm wrapped around her shoulders and he brushed his leg against hers, totally invading what little private space she had made for herself. “Why not? You need the readers, and I need the publicity. It’s a win-win, really.”

Anna looked back at the magazine in her hands with an ecstatic smile. She was so excited at the prospect of countless new readers that she hadn’t noticed how close he had leaned in until she turned to thank him. Her smile fell.

His half-lidded eyes were two different colors. The right was a brown so dark it was very nearly black, and the other a deep red, the color of hellfire. They were the color of twilight on the verge of being swallowed by the night. His gaze locked her own in its grasp, rooting her to the spot. She practically tasted the sweet tang of the alcohol in his breath when his lips parted. The pepper spray grew heavier in her pocket, as if to remind her of its presence.

He looked her up and down and purred, “Oh, but this lil’ venture doesn’t exactly come free, love. I’ll need some sort of...down payment.”

He tilted her head up with a finger, brushing his thumb lightly along her bottom lip. She shivered at the feeling, just a little. The rough callousness felt wrong against the smooth innocence of her mouth. Murdoc saw her face grow ever redder, and he grinned. His teeth were like a shark’s, sharp-edged, dangerous, and crooked.

Anna bit her lip when he traced his thumb around her mouth. She was caught between two tides. On the one hand, she could refuse him and go back to unsuccessfully scrounging around for shops to sell her aunt’s magazine. At the rate it was going, she might be able to pay her aunt back through labor alone in about ten years. She appreciated her aunt and all she’d done, but Anna couldn’t even imagine taking that long to pay off a debt. And on the other….

She gulped. It’d be like selling her soul to the Devil. She’d be absolving one debt, but she would soon fall into another with a price too much to bear.

“Wot d’ya say you pay me right now?” His voice was little more than a husky whisper that hovered right over her lips.

He truly was the worst sort of man.

A fragment of a second later, her phone’s ringtone sounded about the Winnebago. Murdoc blinked, and the hazy lust in his eyes was replaced by a bright confusion. Anna tried not to breathe an obvious sigh of relief as she fished it out of her pocket. It was her aunt.

“H-Hi, Aunt—”

“Anna, are you okay?” she cut in.

Anna shut her eyes and tried not to sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to how late it was getting.”

“Never mind that. I need you at the office. Something’s come up.”

She sat up straighter, shrugging off Murdoc’s arm. “What? Why? What happened?”

“Just come here right away” was all her aunt said before hanging up.

Anna listened to the dial tone in a stunned silence before shaking her head and standing up.

“Sorry, I gotta go.”

“Wait, wot?” He threw her an incredulous look.

“There’s some sort of emergency at the office. My aunt called and sounded urgent,” she explained before ducking out of the Winnebago.

She had made it halfway across the carpark when he called her name again from the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, noting his ridiculously childish pout. “I really have to go. Maybe I can talk to you guys again sometime?”

His mouth worked, scrapping for some excuse to get her to stay for at least a quickie.

“Bye, Murdoc! Thanks for inviting me over! I had fun today,” she said, and meant it. Playing Pokémon with someone else for once was pretty exciting, even if she lost.

He made a deflated noise in his throat then slapped on a strained smile. “Yeah, no problem, love. Come back soon, y’hear me?”

“Sure!” After waving a hasty goodbye over her shoulder, she took off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is "Black Dog" by Led Zeppelin.
> 
> Also, I made a Tumblr sideblog for this fic, if anyone wants to follow it: https://overthedub.tumblr.com/
> 
> It'll have sneak peeks, aesthetics/moodboards, quotes, songs, and other Phase 1 Gorillaz stuff I feel like putting up there, if anyone wants to follow it.
> 
> Thanks again for reading! Until next Friday!


	3. The More of Us that Lies

****Anna veered her sedan crookedly in her usual spot. Most of the other editors had gone home, so she didn’t have to worry about hitting someone else’s car in her rush. She barreled through the office’s front doors, pausing only to greet the receptionist and replace her purse strap over her shoulder.

The receptionist looked her up and down several times.

“...Hello, Miss Santos,” she said finally.

“Is my aunt in her office?” Anna asked, breathless.

“Y-Yes, she is.”

“Okay, thanks.”

As soon as she turned, she almost ran face-first into another person. They held her shoulders to steady her again, and she took a startled step back, brushing her black hair from her face.

“Anna! Yer back!” a tall man with curly brown hair shouted. His Scottish accent snared the end of his words, but she understood him well enough.

“Oh, Harry! Uh, yeah, I am. Sorry for almost bumping into you, but—”

He waved at her dismissively. “Oh, ‘s alrigh’.”

She smiled up at her coworker. “Yeah, well, my aunt called me. It sounded like an emergency.”

“An emergency?” he echoed, but she was off to the offices without explaining further.

“Sorry! Can’t talk right now!” she called over her shoulder. She rushed past her own small cubicle to reach her aunt’s office in the back.

“Aunt Nora, what happened?” Anna yelled without bothering to knock.

Her aunt jolted in her seat, scattering some papers to the floor. “Oh! Anna! You drove here fast!” she said, putting a hand over her heart.

Anna frowned. “Yeah, you said something came up. You sounded worried.”

Nora sighed, “Oh…. Well, I was worried about you.” She stooped down to pick up the papers, methodically picking up each sheet in order.

“Wait, what?”

“I was worried about you,” she repeated, tapping the papers against the counter. “I know you had your pepper spray and you stuck by the rest of the band the whole time, but I just had to be sure.”

Anna looked off to the side. Her stomach sank at the idea of letting her aunt think she hadn’t broken her promise, but what was she to do? She hadn’t meant to wander off with Murdoc alone. It had just happened. Of course, she shouldn’t have volunteered to go off with him at all, even if she thought it would just be a short trip to their kitchen. She was glad for her aunt’s call, really, but admitting that would be like admitting she was still a child that needed to be coddled.

“Yeah, well, I was fine,” she snapped, sounding much harsher than she intended. “They appreciated how lots of people seemed interested in them just from the interview. I was going to schedule another one with them, but then you called me.”

She dared look her aunt in the eyes when she lied. It made it seem more real, and that brief period where Murdoc brought her to his Winnebago like some strange dream. Her mouth still tingled at the thought.

Her aunt looked her over for a few seconds then let out a defeated sigh. “I’m sorry, Anna. I...I know I’m being overbearing. I don’t want to be, but it’s just...you’re the only family I have over here.”

Anna’s irritation ebbed, and was soon replaced by a small seed of guilt.

Her aunt Nora left for England as soon as she turned eighteen. Anna was barely four at the time. All she remembered before then was yelling, lots of yelling. She never knew why her family came to her house just to yell at each other, but she quickly learned that whenever her grandparents visited, it was going to be a bad day.

Her aunt had started a rock band with her friends in high school, something she treated with the utmost importance. Anna remembered helping her aunt pass out flyers to promote her band’s gigs. Her grandparents had disliked the idea, but saw nothing wrong with letting her aunt indulge in what they thought was just a hobby. They never bothered to attend any of her gigs. Nora’s guitar riffs were nothing but noise to them. Anna and her parents, on the other hand, loved her music, and would attend every gig. Well, every gig they got at a family-friendly venue.

When Nora was nearing graduation, however, Anna’s grandparents began to crack down on her, asking her what her plans for the future were. They wanted her to take the same route they had taken when they immigrated to America: push through college, land a stable income, get married, and provide them with grandchildren. Anna’s mother, being the older of the two, tried to advocate for Nora’s being in a band on her sister’s behalf, but their parents would not listen.  Anna never knew what her aunt said about the matter. She was always shoved into another room when these arguments took place.

And so, without any warning, Anna’s aunt took off. She didn’t even bother to leave a note.

Her family was frantic. They even called the police to find her, but she was a legal adult now, and the police constantly stated that they didn’t search for adults who clearly did not want to be found. A lot of swearing and shouting was exchanged between her grandparents and the police that day, but they would not be moved.

After about half a year, her aunt Nora finally called up Anna’s mother to explain where she was.

“ _I'_ _m in the U.K. right now,_ ” she had said, sounding proud of herself. She was on speaker for all to hear. “ _Fat chance of mom and dad finding me here._ ”

Anna’s mother had initially scolded Nora, but she burst into relieved tears halfway through the lecture. Anna couldn’t make out most of what they were saying after that, but it seemed her mother had agreed not to tell their parents about where her aunt was. Since then, they would call each other every so often to catch up. Her grandparents were never a subject they went into.

Her aunt did express her guilt over leaving sometimes, but she didn’t regret her decision one bit.

“My parents are kinda...controlling. I didn’t like that. They wanted to squish me into their lil’ gift-wrapped box, but I wasn’t gonna let myself be just another trophy for them to show off to their stupid, judgemental friends. I guess it was rock-’n-roll’s influence or something. I dunno. I do think of at least sending my parents a letter sometimes, but I know that as soon as I do, they’ll hunt me down and drag me back to America kicking and screaming like the child they think I am. They’re that goddamn determined to not have their name ruined. Fuck how  _I_ actually feel,” her aunt had confessed to her once while drunk. She didn’t seem to remember she said that the next day, so Anna decided to keep this to herself.

“Yeah…I know,” Anna said finally.

She pulled a chair up to her aunt’s desk. “I had fun battling against Noodle today,” she began again, smiling. “But I ended up losing badly.”

Her aunt snorted. “To a kid?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, but she was _good_. She took out my strongest Pokémon like they were nothing. 2-D, the singer, kept telling me how even he hasn’t even beaten her.”

“What about the other guy?” her aunt asked.

“Russel?” Anna said. “He was just watching. I don’t think he plays Pokémon, but he seemed to enjoy watching Noodle utterly destroy me anyway.”

“And...Murdoc?”

The image of Murdoc’s twilight eyes glowing from under the shadow of his fringe made her bite her lip. She hoped she wasn’t blushing. “He was around. He didn’t really get it, but then again, he is kinda old.”

Her aunt burst out laughing and slammed her hand on the desk. “ _O_ _ld_ , huh?” she asked after calming down. “He’s actually a few years younger than me.”

Anna blinked. “But you look younger than him!”

Her aunt smirked down at her desk. “It’s all the drinking and smoking that man does,” she said, leaning her head against her hand. “Thank you, by the way. Always nice to be reminded of how young I am.”

At that moment, her aunt’s office phone rang. Nora sighed and reluctantly picked it up. “Emily, I’m busy right now, can you tell whoever's calling to—”

Her secretary babbled something, and her aunt frowned. “For Anna? Er...okay. Put 'em on, I guess.”

Anna sat up straighter when she was handed the phone. “Uh...hello?”

“ _Hi, Anna!_ ” a wobbly voice greeted. “' _s me, 2-D!_ ”

“2-D?” she repeated, pulling the phone away from her ear a little to stare at it. “Oh, uh, hi.”

“ _Murdoc told us you ‘ad ‘n emergency! Everyfin’ alrigh’?_ ” he asked, sounding concerned.

“Huh? O-Oh, yeah. It turned out to be nothing.”

“ _That’s good!_ ” he said brightly. “ _Actually, I called t’ ask ya somefink._ ”

She tilted her head and twirled the phone cord with her finger. “What is it?”

“ _W_ _ell, I was jus’ finkin’ tha’ it’d be nice if you ‘n me could play Po_ _—_ ”

There was a sudden crash that made her jump a little in her seat. A bunch of incoherent shouting went on for some time before there was a sharp clatter. Had 2-D dropped the phone?

It was quiet for a few seconds before she heard the rustling of someone taking the phone again.

“ _A-Anna? Anna? That you, love?_ ” Murdoc’s voice called out.

She made a face. “Y...Yeah? What happened over there?”

“ _Oh, nothing._ ” There was a shrug in his voice. “ _The Face-Ache just tripped over something. Happens all the time._ ”

“Is he...okay?”

“ _Y_ _eah, yeah._ ” After a short pause, he amended, “ _Well, mostly. But he’ll be fine. No need to worry about him._ ”

“Uh...okay. Could you put him back on? He was gonna ask me something, I think.”

“ _Oh, don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know wot he’s talking about half the time. We don’t call ‘m Two-Dents for nothin’, y’know._ ”

She blinked. “Wait, 2-D stands for Two-Dents? Why is he called that?”

“ _Weeeellll, ’s wot I called him, really, when he first came to after the, y’know, incidents with me car. Two missing eyeballs, two dents, y’know? Worked out perfectly. Better than his real name, Stuart Pot. The hell kinda frontman would he be if he kept a stupid name like that?_ ” he asked, sounding so clearly not guilty about these accidents that it made her scowl.

“Wait, so you really _did_ hit him with your car twice?” she snapped.

“ _Er...yeah. I thought that’s wot we established during that first interview._ ”

Anna glared at the phone. She couldn’t believe him! How could anyone be that horrible? And how did 2-D not bolt or sue him the minute he came to again?

Another thought occurred to her, and she held the phone back to her ear.

“Wait, so you actually kidnapped Russel, too?”

Her aunt gaped at her. “What?”

“ _Uh,_ yeah _. And Noodle really showed up in a FedEx crate, if you thought I was lying. We still have it in the studio somewhere if ya wanna take a look._ ” He chuckled to himself then added, “ _Actually, that sounds like a wonderful idea. We never did finish talking about the interview, did we?_ ”

Anna’s face tightened. “We talked plenty.”

“ _Ooooh, yer right there, love. People talk too much these days. Not enough action, y’know wot I’m sayin’?_ ” he crooned, his voice getting slightly huskier.

“No, I don’t.”

“ _No? Well, don’t make me spell it out fer you,_ ” Murdoc teased.

Without warning, Anna’s aunt snatched the phone from her and asked, her voice hard, “Who’s this?”

She scowled after hearing the answer. “Listen, don’t call this number anymore. In fact, don’t even think of talking to Anna ever again, you hear me? She’s not interested, and she will never  _be_ interested.”

Her aunt slammed her phone back down with a huff. Nora took a shaky breath then said, “I don’t want you talking to the Gorillaz anymore. Understand me?” Her voice held an undercurrent of rage beneath the affronted placidity.

Anna’s eyes grew wide. “What? But I—”

“No buts!”

She shrunk back in her seat.

Her aunt’s phone rang again, but she just picked it up and slammed it back down again.

“You shouldn’t have given him this number,” she growled. “Now he won’t stop bothering us.”

Her aunt put a hand to her head and breathed out a long sigh. “Great, now we’re gonna have to change our number. And right after we got all these new readers….” She shuffled through some papers on her desk and let out another sigh.

Anna stared at her, incredulous. “Do we have to go  _that_ far? I mean, sure, he’s annoying, but—”

“What did I say?!” her aunt shouted.

Anna scowled down at the floor.

The clock ticked relentlessly.

A minute.

Two.

Three.

Nora spread her hands on the desk. “I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I shouldn’t have yelled like that. It’s just….”

Anna shifted in her seat, refusing to look up at her. “Why do you hate him so much? It’s like...you know him.”

Her aunt flinched.

Another few ticks of the clock sounded.

“He's a mistake.”

Anna glanced up, curious.

“Not mine,” her aunt added. “A friend's. A desperate, lonely friend who was screwed over by that selfish bastard too many times.”

“...I’m sorry.”

Nora shook her head. “They’ve been over and done with for some time. She’s better now.” She threw her niece a small, if unsure smile that Anna awkwardly returned.

Her aunt’s gaze fell to her desk after a few seconds. “Just...promise me you’ll stay as far away from Murdoc Niccals as you can. I know you like hanging out with the rest of the band, and you can. I’m not stopping you from doing that, at the very least. Just as long as _he’s_ not there.”

Anna knew that such a request would be near impossible. Where Gorillaz went, Murdoc went. It was supposedly _his_ band, so he’d tag along whether she wanted him to or not. To renounce Murdoc would be to renounce the others, and she wasn’t about to give up this chance to make new friends now. Talking to others she didn’t know well wasn’t exactly her forte, but blending in with Gorillaz had felt so natural, so utterly _right_. They didn't make fun of her for her interests. In fact, they shared these very same interests. They were all shrouded in oddities and mystery, but she wasn’t going to be scared off by that now, Murdoc be damned. Although, according to that story about how he acquired his bass, he already was.

The seconds ticked down on her aunt’s clock as she struggled to think of how to respond.

Eventually, the chimes sang six o’clock.

Anna shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and crossed her fingers, the pepper spray clinking noisily beside her.

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a lyric from a very underrated Gorillaz song "The Sounder" from their G-Sides album.
> 
> Until next Friday, my dudes!


	4. Dawn of the Dead

Promises were not taken lightly with Anna. They held a certain weight, and to break one would be as difficult for her as willingly breaking a limb. Perhaps it was because she took the word itself too seriously, which was why she so rarely made promises, but she kept her promises all the same.

At least, when she wasn't crossing her fingers when making said promise.

Crossing her fingers when lying was just something she happened to pick up as a child, and it had been a habit of hers ever since. Not that she lied often, and even then, only in small, meaningless doses.

This, however, would be a much more difficult medicine to take in.

“Hey, Harry!” Anna greeted her coworker the next morning.

He turned to her with a bright smile. “Mornin’, Anna.” After readjusting the large stack of paper in his arms, he asked, “Wha’ was that emergency y’had t’attend to yesterday?”

Her smile fell a little. “Oh, well, it was nothing, really.”

“That’s good. Never good things, emergencies.”

“Yeah….”

Her dark eyes flickered away for a moment, unsure. Her aunt was a bit too paranoid about Murdoc, but she meant well. She knew him better, after all. Would it really be wise to go behind her back just to make some new friends? Would it be alright to get someone she considered a mere acquaintance involved?

Harry bent toward her, concerned. “Somethin’ wrong?”

Anna took a deep breath. This was nothing. Harmless. Besides, it's not as if she wanted to be friends with Murdoc, particularly. She just wanted to get to know the rest of the band better, and if he continued to tag along with them, then she'd just have to make do. Her aunt _had_ said that his bandmates were pretty much a buffer between his usual sleazy tactics and herself anyway.

“Actually,” she began, shifting on her feet. “I was wondering if I could ask you a favor.”

“Wha’ kinda favor?”

She gestured for him to come closer. “You know that band I covered for that interview? The one that played at the Brownhouse?”

“Oh! Yeah, Gorillaz!” he said. “A mate ‘a mine saw their gig! He said it was absolutely mad!”

Anna’s smile was more weary than happy. “Er...yeah, it was pretty insane. A riot broke out.”

“A riot, y’say? Sounds dangerous! Glad yer alrigh’ though.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised I was able to interview them, actually, but….” She shook her head. “Listen, my aunt won’t let me interview them anymore.”

He blinked. “Wha’? Why?”

She rolled her hands in front of her, trying to gather her words. “She has a problem with one of the members of the band. Apparently, he’s got a reputation as a womanizer, and she doesn’t want me near him.”

Harry made a face at this. “Oh, I see. So...wha' d'you want me t’ do?”

She glanced over her shoulder, hoping her aunt wouldn’t round the corner or pop up from behind somewhere. In a hurried whisper, she said, “I made friends with the other members of the band—”

“Really?” Harry asked, an incredulous smile on his face. “That’s great!”

“Y-Yeah. Anyway, she won’t let me see them if that guy’s around, but I can’t help that. Where the band goes, he goes. He keeps saying it’s his band, and if I’m going to get more interviews from them, I can’t exactly avoid him. So I was wondering if you could, y’know, take credit for them.”

Harry frowned at this. “Wai’, you want me t’ take credit fer yer work?”

She nodded. “I’ll be the one conducting the initial interviews, but you can fix them up to make it sound like you wrote them.”

“I dunno. I mean, it’s yer work, ‘n I—”

“Please?” Anna begged. “I don’t know who else I can ask.”

He blushed when she leaned toward him, pouting. “Oh, alrigh’,” he sighed, as if she were asking for a huge favor, when really, it was just a weak attempt to hide how pink his face had grown. “I don’ see a downside t’ this. But I’ll only do it on one condition.”

Anna tilted her head. “What is it?”

Harry leaned toward her with a small smile. “I’ll call it even if ya grab a coffee with me.”

A taken aback giggle escaped through her fingers. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” she teased. Ever since she had bumped into him the day they met and made him spill his coffee all over himself, Harry had turned the whole incident into an inside joke. She had promised to buy him a cup of coffee and a new shirt to make up for it, but, so far, she had only managed to find time to buy him the shirt.

He laughed along with her. “‘fraid no’. No’ ‘til ya buy me tha’ coffee ya owe me, at least.”

“Okay, okay.” She put her hands up in surrender. “That’s fair.”

She turned away when another editor called her over to look at something. Anna offered one last shy smile back at him. “Thanks, Harry. It means a lot.”

“Anytime, lass.”

When she hid behind her cubicle again, Harry’s smile fell. After a few months of trying to get to know her, he had only succeeded in engaging in the smallest of small talk. They weren’t exactly friends, but he fancied he talked to her more than the other employees at the office—save her aunt, of course.

For a reporter, Anna was incredibly withdrawn. It was a wonder she decided to get into the news business at all. She tended to opt out of conversations more than she joined them, and even then, it was because someone forced her to rather than her joining of her own volition. And now she had made friends with some random rock stars in just a few days? What could a bunch of eccentric musicians possibly have in common with some quiet, simple girl like Anna? Surely they were her polar opposites. That womanizer sounded especially dangerous, and yet she was willing to risk her safety just to get some interviews? Something wasn’t right here.

He carried the papers he was holding off to the appropriate people, plastering a professional, empty smile on his face all the while. But no matter how much he threw himself into his work, Harry couldn’t shake off the murky pit roiling in his chest.

He liked Anna.

He liked her a lot.

But for all the play-flirting he did, she never seemed to pick up on when he was being serious. He wasn’t about to ruin what they had, of course, but all these months with very little progress to show for it was just pathetic. He needed to make a move already.

A genuine smile grew on his face when his mind looped back to the favor she asked him. The interviews…. Of course! He could use those as an excuse to go out with her and then—

He shook his head. Best to not think too far ahead yet.

Harry glanced over at her cubicle again, but all he could see was the top of her head over the already short partitions. He sighed wistfully and went on with his work.

At around noon, Anna took off to get lunch by herself. Harry couldn’t help but notice the weird way she was looking all around her when she left, like she was making sure no one was following her. He almost got up to tease her about it, but the local music reviews still needed looking over. He impatiently flipped through the stack and leaned back in his chair with a resigned groan.

Anna sighed in relief when she made it outside without her aunt offering to come with her. The last thing she needed was for someone to interrupt this call.

The local coffee place she frequented was full of general chatter, so her own conversation would blend right in. The phone rang for several moments before Anna heard, “ _Moshi moshi! Nuudoru da!_ ”

She smiled. “Oh, hi, Noodle! It’s Anna. Can I talk to Russel or 2-D, please?”

“ _Hai!_ ” There was some rustling, then she heard Noodle’s voice call out, “ _R_ _ussel-kun!_ ”

“ _Yeah? Who’s dat?_ ” he asked. The phone crackled as he took it from her.

“ _Anna-san!_ ” came Noodle’s cheerful response.

“Hey, Russel!” she greeted. “I was wondering if I could come over later to do another interview. I didn’t have the chance to ask you guys anything yesterday.”

“ _Oh, uh, yeah, Muds told me you had ‘n emergency or some’n. What happened?_ ”

Anna put a hand to her head and tried not to sigh. “...That ended up being nothing,” she said.

 _"Dat’s good._ _I guess you c’n come ova soon as yo’ done wit’ work like last time._ ”

His voice sounded farther away when he said, “ _But no Pokémon dis time, Noods, a’ight?_ ”

She began to whine, but he hushed her in the next moment. “ _What’s wrong wit’ playin’ wit’ ‘D?_ ”

“ _Too-chee makeru! Itsumo, itsumo makeru!_ ” Anna heard her complain. She smiled at the image of Noodle throwing her hands up in exasperation at a man more than twice her size.

“ _H_ _e only loses so much ‘cause yo' so good at it,_ ” he offered, a hint of a laugh in his voice.

At the mention of 2-D, Anna sat up straighter in her seat. “Wait, Russel, remind me to ask 2-D why he called me yesterday when I get there. He was gonna ask me something, but I don’t know what it was. Murdoc….”

She trailed off and bit her lip. The mere mention of Murdoc made her stomach churn in a rather curious way. It wasn’t exactly butterflies fluttering about. No, it was more like a seed of warmth had been planted there and its roots were spreading all throughout her being.

She tried to shake the tingling feeling from her lips, to no avail. “M-Murdoc cut him off before he could finish,” she stuttered finally.

“ _Oh…. Oh yeah, sure. But he’s...uh…._ ” Russel cleared his throat. “ _Anyway, see ya wheneva we see ya, I guess._ ”

“Okay. Bye, Russel. Tell Noodle I said bye, too.”

“ _Sure thang. Bye._ ”

Anna clicked her phone off and drummed her fingers on the counter. There was no reason for her to feel so flustered. She would not be lured away a second time, and besides, no matter how bad a womanizer he was, there was no way he could flirt with her in front of a child. He had to have _some_ standards.

She shook her head and, after scooping up her purse, hurried back to the offices across the street with a renewed sense of motivation towards her work. It was better than dwelling on her muddled thoughts, anyway.

* * *

“Aunt Nora?” Anna began as she opened the door to her office, a difficult feat considering the large stack of magazines in her arms. “I’m gonna see if the music stores nearby would reconsider carrying us again. With the way the issues have been selling lately, I think they might. I mean, it doesn’t hurt to check, at least.”

Her aunt looked up from an array of photos on her desk. “Oh, okay…. You don’t have to go through so much trouble, though. I mean, like you said, we’ve been selling pretty well lately.”

“For how long though?” Anna asked, hefting the stack of magazines back up like an unruly infant.

Her aunt considered this.

“Alright,” she consented finally. “Be careful.”

Anna smiled. “I will! See you later!” She sidestepped around the door and let it fall shut behind her with a soft _click_.

She dumped the stack in the passenger seat of her car, taking care to put the seatbelt over it just in case. She needed to bring some copies for the other members of Gorillaz to look over while she talked about the interview anyway. Murdoc seemed to approve of it, and, despite his flirting with her yesterday, she did appreciate that he had gone out of his way to purchase his own copy of the ‘zine. Though, considering the biggest piece in the ‘zine was about his band, she supposed he did it more to stroke his own ego than for her. That, or he was trying to win brownie points. Unfortunately for her, it had worked. It was partially why she wandered off with him the day before.

After driving a few circles around the steep hill Kong Studios stood on to build up her speed, Anna finally got her car up to the first set of gates. The sudden stop caused a few magazines from the stack to spill over. She lolled her head back with a weary groan.

Anna shut her car off, leaving the keys in the ignition, and went around to fix the fallen stack. The gates creaked open and she stood up straight, brushing her bangs from her face. Had the band come all the way down just to greet her? She clutched the few magazines she had picked up to her chest, squinting into the fog that rolled in. A rail-thin silhouette shuffled toward her.

She shut the door and took a few uncertain steps forward.

“Hello?”

The figure didn’t answer. It only stumbled faster to her, as if drawn to her voice.

The fog curled away in smoky wisps and the figure finally came into focus. Anna nearly dropped all the magazines at the grotesque sight.

Gray, almost transparent skin clung tightly over its dark, cracked bones, and it leaked black ooze from every available orifice in its body. Its right arm looked as if it had been chewed off, exposing a sharp stump of bone with a brown clump of muscle and vein wrapped loosely around it.

For one, impossible second, Anna wanted to believe the band was throwing some elaborate prank on her, and either 2-D or Murdoc would pull off the horrid costume they wore and laugh at her before taking her inside.

But she could smell its rot, and she knew.

This thing in front of her was an actual, honest-to-God zombie.

She backed away to get to the other side of her car, but another zombie emerged from the fog to block the driver’s side.

A string of curses fell from her tongue. It was useless fodder against those who were long past such insults. She spared a short glance over her shoulder and decided against sprinting all the way back down the hill. It was much too steep. She’d either plummet to the cement below or roll all the way down and cut herself on the rocks. Neither option seemed particularly desirable, but neither was being eaten alive by shuffling corpses.

The only real choice was to move forward and get to Kong...somehow.

After finding an opening, she bolted past the zombies through Kong’s gates.

More of the dead cropped up around her. Their gnarled hands stabbed up through the dirt as they unearthed themselves.

Anna cried out when she nearly ran into one in the middle of the path. It scratched at her with a hungry snarl, but she whirled just out of its reach.

Dead moans surrounded her from every angle. A scream crawled up from within her, one that tore at her throat when she almost tripped over one just emerging from its grave.

She didn’t look back, didn’t dare. To look back was death, and she was too terrified to stare it in the face.

The path that wound up to the studio looked clear, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. Anna removed the scrunchie she kept around her wrist, hastily tying the band around the magazines and to her arm to create a makeshift shield as she ran. It wasn’t much, but the thick paper would at least protect her from being bitten.

She almost sobbed with relief when she finally reached the studio’s entrance. Anna slammed her fists against the double doors, crying out for someone, anyone, to let her in.

All she got in response were the groans of the dead growing louder and louder as they clambered up the hill after her. She whirled, pressing her back against the door. A zombie’s head poked up from the path. Its glazed, empty eyes zeroed in on her and it shuffled faster up the spire. She let out another shriek, pounding behind her with fervent desperation.

The door next to her opened and something clapped its hand, warm and alive, over her left ear. In the next instant, a muffled _bang_ sounded and the zombie jerked back and fell off the cliff.

Anna screamed at the noise, but, before she had a chance to see who had fired, the very same hand reached down for hers.

“Fer fuck’s sake, get  _in_ ,” a familiar voice snapped, tugging her inside before slamming the doors behind her.

Anna slumped against the door, drinking several shaky breaths of relief. She was about to thank whoever had rescued her, but Murdoc just slammed his hand near her head, trapping her against the corner of the entryway. She shrunk back as much as she could, but he just leaned even closer so that he was only an inch from her face.

“Did they bite you?” he growled. Her words caught in her throat, so she just shook her head. He looked her over, as if he doubted it. She couldn’t blame him. She’d been screaming like hell was after her, and probably looked crazed besides.

After a few seconds, Murdoc nodded, apparently satisfied, and pushed himself away. An array of holsters for ammo and assorted handguns adorned his being. They looked wrong hanging on his skinny frame, like he were playing dress-up. The fact that he wore nothing but a tanktop and cargo pants underneath only added to this effect. All he needed was a cloth around his head, and he’d look like some wannabe Rambo.

Anna pushed her hair back. “W-What...What’s happening here? I mean….”

Murdoc shrugged. “Cleaning day,” he replied, so nonchalantly that she probably would have punched him if she didn’t still need the door for support. “Zombies tend to rise once a month ‘r so ‘round here.”

His gaze fell to the crumpled magazines strapped to her right arm and he grimaced. “Oh for Hell’s sake, woman,” he cursed wearily. “Is that magazine really worth yer life?”

Anna cradled her magazine-covered arm to her chest and looked away.

Murdoc gave her a decisive once-over then sighed. “Look, how's about you sit tight upstairs and we can talk about that interview when I’m done here, yeah?”

He scooted past her to open the other door, brandishing another gun in the next second. He paused to survey the area before him then turned back to her with a sharp grin. “On second thought, how’s about you go down ‘n wait fer me in my Winnebago, eh?” he suggested with a short chuckle.

She scowled, but he merely dropped a dark wink at her before slamming the door closed again.

Gunfire blared just behind the door, and Anna flinched at the noise. An endless barrage of bullets and ecstatic mocking from Murdoc were all she could hear for a few minutes, but that soon faded as he led them all away.

Anna slid to the floor in her relief, clasping her trembling hands together. They were gone. She was safe.

It was a rule in zombie movies that as soon as a person thought all was well, some zombie would pop around the corner and start eating their brains, or they'd run into something equally as dangerous.

The same rule applied to real life, too, it seemed.

Something tapped at a nearby window that ran from floor to ceiling. As soon as she glanced over to see what it was, two zombies crashed through it, falling flat on their faces with a sickening squelch right in front of the elevators. One zombie groaned as it peeled its head off the floor. Half its face was stripped away in the motion, and Anna forced herself to swallow the bile rising up.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she swore. She hoped it wasn't going to be the last word she'd ever say.

They pushed themselves off the ground, standing unsteadily on their mostly rotted legs. Their bodies made a disgusting _schlop_ noise when they separated from one another. One of them lost an arm in the process. It stuck to the other’s back for a moment before sliding off to the floor.

She got to her feet and looked wildly around the lobby for anything to use against them. A switchblade with a black hilt and a skull at the base of it rested on a nearby table. Anna scrabbled for it and flicked it open. She could probably handle one on her own, if she were lucky. But two?

They shuffled single-file toward her like they were in line for a buffet.

...Wait, a line?

She glanced down at the magazines strapped to her arm then back to the zombies.

A pit of fear ate at her insides, but what other choice did she have?

After taking a deep breath, she rushed at the zombies with a war cry, holding her magazine-armored arm out as a makeshift riot shield.

The zombie she collided with lost its balance and toppled onto the one behind it, trapping it under its weight. It bit at the stack of magazines, then paused its chewing when it began to process it wasn’t eating flesh but paper.

She stabbed it straight through its skull in that moment. It was a lot softer than she expected, and the knife sank in its slimy flesh until half the hilt was in its head. The magazines soaked up the ooze from its body, and she slipped out of the scrunchie strapping them to her arm.

The other zombie squirmed under her, trying its hardest to remove the limp one on top of it to take a bite out of her.

Anna made a break for the elevator, giving the corpses a wide berth.

High ground. She needed to get to high ground.

The elevator opened right when she pushed the button. She practically threw herself against the opposite wall then reached out and pushed the button for the floor above.

She waited and waited, but the doors did not shut.

She slapped the button again.

Her breathing grew faster the longer the doors stayed open. She clicked the button again and again, muttering “Hurry up” several times under her breath like a prayer.

In that time, the second zombie managed to shove the other one off of it and crawled on its stomach to where she stood.

Anna backed away until she hit the wall.

The zombie reached for her, letting out a guttural moan that sent a shiver down her spine.

She glared skyward and screamed, “ _Move, goddammit!_ ”

It was in that instant the elevator doors finally shut and the damn thing shuddered up to the next floor.

She panted against the wall, clutching the railing for dear life. Zombie ooze had gotten on her clothes and in her hair, but at least she was alive.

Thank God, she was still alive.

The elevator doors opened onto a bright hall. She peered around the edge, but all she heard was a quiet _pew_ noise from the corridor that led to the living room. The door to that corridor was left ajar, but not enough for her to fit through. She pushed it open further, and it gave a reluctant creak as it let her pass.

Noodle perched herself by the windows open to the graveyard below, but as soon as she heard the door creak, she swiveled to aim her rifle right at her head. Anna automatically stood at attention, raising her hands in the air.

The little girl blinked and lowered the gun. “Anna-san?”

“Y-Yeah. It’s me. Don’t shoot, please.”

Noodle frowned at the mess all over the front of her clothes. She toddled over to her cautiously and poked all around her legs and arms, ignoring the gross slime that was getting on her fingers. When she was satisfied that there were no bites, she wiped her fingers on her jacket then reached up and poked Anna in the belly.

Anna wrapped her arms around her stomach and laughed despite herself.

Noodle frowned at her, but she just shook her head. “Sorry. I’m just ticklish.”

She lifted her shirt to show the little girl her smooth stomach. “No bites,” she reassured her with a friendly smile.

Noodle returned the smile and patted her tummy. “ _No baitsu_ ,” she repeated to the best of her ability.

Anna watched in startled awe as Noodle hefted the rifle back up. The thing was almost as tall as her, but she didn’t seem to have any trouble with it. After a few seconds of hesitation, Anna picked up the rifle beside her. It was heavier than she expected, but she at least managed to set it up on a stand near another open window.

Noodle frowned and asked her something she couldn’t understand. Anna blinked and replied choppily, “Uh, ah... _gomen ne, Noodle. Atashi...wakarimasen._ ”

The little girl took a moment to think of how to reword her question, then, “Anna-san...shoot?”

Anna nodded in understanding, then shook her head when she realized it gave the wrong impression. “No, I don’t know how to shoot…” she admitted with a weak smile.

The little girl nodded then peered through her scope.

Anna squinted into her own scope, swiveling the rifle around to get a better look down below.

Gray masses from all over the cemetery converged around two familiar figures standing back-to-back among the horde. Russel swept at the zombies with a large scythe, and Murdoc, apparently having run out of bullets, did the same. While Russel scowled at each zombie he hacked down, Murdoc appeared to be laughing maniacally at it all.

Russel grew more and more irritated with each swing, and eventually, he turned to yell at the deranged bassist. Murdoc stuck his impossibly long tongue back at him and continued slicing up the zombies with a renewed vigor.

Anna watched in mute horror as Russel became so wrapped up in whatever he was saying that he didn’t even notice when a zombie slunk up to him to try and tear off a chunk of his arm.

Noodle fired in that instant.

The zombie fell to the ground along with the rest.

Russel whirled around, startled. He barely had time to throw a grateful thumbs-up in the general direction of the studio before the undead queued up around him again.

Anna gulped. That was too close a call. If Noodle had fired a second later, then….

She shook her head. No, he was fine now. He’d be fine. They’d all be fine.

She wished she could do something to help, but she’d be more of a hindrance than anything. She wouldn’t dare try her hand at shooting the spare rifle, even with the scope attached. An accidental hit to either Murdoc or Russel could prove fatal to the both of them.

Something occurred to her, and she turned to Noodle. “Where’s 2-D?”

Noodle took another shot before she spared her a glance. “Too-chee…. Face-Ache,” she said as she patted her temple.

If Murdoc was there, Anna bet he would’ve laughed and encouraged her to keep calling 2-D that. But she wasn’t Murdoc, and she wasn’t going to indulge his bullying, either.

“He has a headache?” Anna asked.

Noodle nodded, smiling just a little as she picked the zombies off. “Headache,” she repeated slowly. “ _I_ _tai_.”

Anna lingered by the window for a few moments longer, if only to give herself the impression that she could actually do something to help. She sighed and lightly kicked the rifle stand.

“...I’m going to the living room.”

“Okay,” Noodle muttered.

The living room was a mess. Several issues of different music magazines, old food cartons, toys, even video game cartridges laid about the place like a whirlwind of pop culture. Anna almost collapsed face-first on the clear side of the couch. Not wanting to muck it up too much with all the zombie slime still on her, however, she opted to sit at the very edge, clasping her hands together in a silent prayer to keep them from trembling. The adrenaline had long since sapped out of her, leaving only an exhausted, anxiety-riddled center behind. She stared down at the floor, trying to focus on nothing but her breathing.

It worked, or at least, she made herself believe it had worked. Her hands had stopped shaking, at the very least.

Anna’s ears pricked up at the startling silence. When had Noodle stopped shooting? Even the moans of the undead that had floated up through the open windows had ceased.

She forced herself to her feet, shaking her nerves away like stray drops of water from her fingertips. They were done. This was over.

Anna stared down at the doorknob, hesitant.

It had to be...right? Why else would it be so damn quiet?

As soon as she reached for the knob, the door swung open, revealing a very gory Murdoc.

She stumbled a few, startled steps back, nearly tripping over an empty beer can in the process.

Murdoc blinked, bewildered for a moment, before he eased into a carefree grin. “Anna!” He seemed oddly jovial considering what just happened. “Yer still alive!”

She put a hand to her chest. “Jesus, Murdoc, don’t scare me like that! I almost thought you were….” She shook her head. “Anyway, yeah, I’m...I’m still alive….”

“Thought you might’ve been eaten by one’a those zombies down in the lobby,” he confessed, cupping her face in a grimy hand. “Woulda been a right shame, too.”

Anna blinked up at him. His crooked grin offset the rest of his disheveled, bloody appearance, but it was also strangely...charming, in a way. Maybe it was because he seemed genuinely glad that she was still alive.

He tilted his head. “You okay, love?”

She blushed and stepped away. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I found a, uh, switchblade in the lobby and used that,” she said.

“Oh, so that’s where I left it then.” He nodded to himself. “But why were all yer magazines stuffed inside one’a the fuckin’ corpses’ ribs?”

“Oh, I, uh….” Anna cleared her throat. “I saw it in a movie once. One of the main guys strapped a phone book to his arm with some duct tape. I just had my magazines and a scrunchie, so I improvised. They were coming at me, so I just...charged at them. I took one down with the switchblade, but I, er, left the other one. Sorry.”

His eyebrows shot up, and, for a moment, he looked genuinely impressed. This was all ruined when he burst out laughing. He ruffled her hair with something like affection.

She slapped his hand away. “Don’t patronize me."

Murdoc raised his hands in mock-defense. “I’m not. I swear on this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the very same switchblade, flicking it open to wipe the blade on his stained tanktop.

Anna laughed despite herself. “Ugh, Murdoc, that’s _gross_.”

He only shrugged. “I’m covered in the shit anyway. Hardly makes a difference now, don’t it?” he said, earning another short laugh from her.

Russel lumbered up behind him with a loud yawn. Noodle clung to his hand as he led her over to the living room.

“Muds, move, man. I needa sit down,” he grumbled in the doorway.

Murdoc snorted up some snot before walking over to the couch. “I think we did awright today, considering the denthead was out of commission,” he said, throwing his dirt-encrusted boots up on the table.

“Yeah. We still gotta fix dat window, dough,” Russel sighed, running a hand over his face. Little Noodle had all but fallen against him when he took his seat, but she didn’t seem to mind leaning on him. She wriggled a little to get comfortable before she took her Gameboy out of her coat.

Murdoc lolled his head back with an exasperated sigh and threw his arm on the back of the couch, right over where Anna had been resting. She was too tired to scoot away, so she just let her head rest on his bicep. At least he wasn’t making any passes at her.

“Anna, you okay, girl?” Russel asked.

She let out a weak chuckle. “You’re asking me? What about you guys?”

Russel shrugged. “My arms’re gonna be sore, but I’m fine. Muds is, too. We’re kinda used to it, I guess, messed up as it is.” He looked her over with a concerned frown. “What about you?”

Anna’s gaze fell to the floor. “I feel kinda...calm right now. Is that weird?”

“Yer in shock,” Murdoc replied, his hand slipping to her shoulder. He kneaded the stiff muscles of her arms, but this just made her tense up even more.

Russel offered her a kind smile. “Just breathe in and out slowly a few times.”

“Actually, a fag’d prolly help more,” Murdoc said, taking out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. _666 Lucky Lungs_ was stamped on it in big, black letters.

“Oh, no, I don’t—”

He stuck one in his mouth and lit it before she could finish.

Anna wrinkled her nose at the smell, trying her best not to cough.

Murdoc’s eyes slid over to her. “Wot? Not care for smoking?” he asked.

She pinched her nose and nodded vigorously. “It smells gross,” she said and turned away a little when he blew out a hazy wisp.

He made a face but put the cigarette out on a nearby ashtray anyway. “Prude.”

“It's not good fo' Noods either, man,” Russel added.

“ _Kimoi_ ,” she agreed without looking up.

Murdoc waved them all away. “Yeah, yeah. I put it out already. Don't you lot get yer knickers in a twist.”

With her hand still over her nose, Anna asked, “Shouldn't you guys go take a shower or something? You smell.”

Murdoc scoffed. “Can't I relax first? I'm sore all over,” he whined, settling back into the couch.

“Yeah,” Russel mumbled. His gaze was fixed on the game Noodle was playing. “Just afta this.”

Murdoc spared a glance at his bandmates. They were too caught up in Noodle’s video game to notice what he was going to do. Right then.

He leaned closer to Anna, nuzzling past her hair to pause by the shell of her ear.

“Wot say you 'n me head downstairs, babe?” he growled, low enough for only her to hear. His breath was hot on her skin. “You need help taking the edge off, right?”

Anna said nothing, only squirmed in her seat. The refusal caught in her throat, and she couldn’t get the words to spill no matter how much she wanted them to. Of course, the sultry way his voice dropped and the deliberately slow way he was massaging her shoulder wasn’t helping matters much either. He ran his thumb up the back of her neck and she sucked in a breath.

He had worn down her defenses, just a little bit. He’d have to up the ante, then.

Murdoc took her earlobe between his teeth, biting down gently. Anna sat up straighter with an almost imperceptible squeak.

She felt him grin against her ear. “Ooooh, sensitive, are we?” he purred. “The sensitive ones tend to be the loudest, and baby, I'll make you scream fer me. _All. Night. Long._ ”

Anna stood up so fast that Murdoc fell over on the couch. Russel and Noodle looked up at her, frowning in confusion.

Her face was scarlet as she whirled to face him. “Murdoc, touch me again, and I'll kill you.”

Much to her indignation, the bassist's stubborn eyes raked her body and he licked his lips. “Darling, I'd _love_ to see you try,” he growled with a low chuckle.

Russel clapped his hands over Noodle's ears, ignoring her protests. “Aw, Muds, man, c'mon. Don't be flirtin' in fronta Noods. 'specially not wit' Anna,” he groaned.

He shook his head and turned to her. “Girl, I’m sorry ‘bout him. He just—”

Anna stepped towards Murdoc, scowling. He only smirked up at her. “Change yer mind, love? Come to yer senses at last?” he taunted. He spread his arms out, as if waiting for an embrace. “Go on then. Give ol' Murdoc a kiss now.”

So she did. Her fist collided with his mouth with enough force to loll his head back.

Russel and Noodle burst out laughing at the sight, and Anna even felt a little proud of herself for a second. That is, until Murdoc got to his feet and towered over her small frame.

“The hell ya do that for, ya stupid cunt?!” he snapped.

Normally, Anna would have been intimidated and backed away, but this was Murdoc, and, despite her aunt’s warnings, he just seemed depressingly pathetic to her. He wasn’t intimidating. Not really. He just threw his weight around and acted bigger than he was. Those high-heeled boots of his certainly helped with that image.

“You asked for a kiss,” she replied, even braving a smile up at his seething form. “So I gave it to you.”

His eye twitched. “That’s a damn awful way of showing affection, _Anna_.” He spat her name like an insult, but the venom just slid down her back like water.

“That was a kiss from me to you,” she said with a casual shrug. “If you don’t like it, don’t ask.”

Murdoc looked as if he was about to spew more insults when Russel asked, “Oh, ‘ey, you still up fo’ doin' anotha interview?”

Anna deliberately turned her entire body away from Murdoc. “Oh, yeah, sure. Lemme get my stuff. I, uh, left my purse in my car....”

“I'll go get 'D. See if he's feelin' any betta,” Russel said. The couch springs practically shrieked as he stood up again.

“Hey, I-I’m not done with you yet!” Murdoc yelled.

The two headed for the exit without bothering to look back at him. There was no point in gracing Murdoc with any kind of answer.

When Anna turned to close the door, she saw him glaring at her from over the couch. She threw him a warm smile, but he only flipped her off in response. Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. Before Murdoc could say anything else, she shut the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is in reference to George Romero's 1978 film "Dawn of the Dead", which is my favorite from his zombie movie trilogy tbh. "Night of the Living Dead" is a close second though.
> 
> This was a fun chapter to write, but please feel free to criticize how I write my OC with a Scottish accent, and give me pointers, if you want. I barely have a grasp on British/English slang let alone Scottish, lol, why do I do this to myself....
> 
> Also, I'll add a warning and the appropriate tags for this chapter, but I'm not sure if the rating should move up too? I mean, it will eventually when I get to...certain parts, but does this count as explicit violence or can I leave it mature for now? idk how ratings work pls help.
> 
> I know this is a Phase One fic, but has anyone else listened to The Now Now (which is out now now lol)? GOOD SHIT, my dudes.
> 
> Thanks again for reading! Until next Friday!


	5. Should I Stay or Should I Go?

As soon as the two of them got to the elevator, Anna's triumphant smile faded. Considering how much she had reveled in her victory over Murdoc earlier, it was strange to see her shut down so fast. Her brown eyes dulled to a glassy near-black as she leaned against the railing of the elevator.

Russel peeked over at her, frowning. “‘ey...sorry ‘bout Muds,” he began.

She smiled, just a little. “It’s not him I’m thinking about.”

“Okay…. Whassup den?” he asked, leaning next to her. His voice, his gaze, his whole being was open and soft. Anna felt as if she could entrust him with anything, and he wouldn't tell a single soul. It was an odd thought, especially since she had only known him for a couple days. His pearl eyes were still hard to read, but she saw the warmth in them all the same.

Anna shifted on her feet. “The whole zombie thing…. I still can’t believe all this actually happened, y'know?”

She looked down at her slime-encrusted hands. “And…I killed one…. I know I had to, but I….”

“You ain’t neva done shit like dis before,” Russel finished, so resolute that she winced.

“...Yeah.”

It was quiet for a moment before he said, “I’m surprised you stuck around, actually. Most people woulda run outta here by now, screamin' ‘n shit. I wouldn't blame 'em. But at least you had the guts to try ‘n fight back.”

Anna laughed under her breath. “I was scared out of my mind.”

“Listen, dat shit you pulled with the magazines and dat switchblade was crazy smart. You act fast unda pressure like dat, ‘n you good in my book.”

She finally smiled up at him. “Thanks, Russel.”

The elevator reached the lobby floor in the next moment.

“Muds 'n I burned all the bodies 'n did a thorough sweep of the grounds, so you should be good,” he assured her as they got out.

Her eyes fell to the slimy stains by the broken window, and she paused.

Russel glanced from her down to the stains again. "You want me to walk you to yo' car?" he offered.

Anna shook her head and slapped on a small smile. "No, it's fine. You can go and check on 2-D. I'm a little worried about him."

"Girl, I'm worried about  _you_ ," he said, frowning. "You sure yo' okay going alone?"

"Yeah...I'm sure."

She didn't sound like it, and her smile looked more pained than anything. Still, if she wanted time to process all this on her own, he wouldn't take that away from her. "A'ight," he said, turning to the door that led down to the car park. "See you later."

"Bye...."

Anna hesitated in front of the set of double doors. Russel said they cleared the way, but what if they missed one? What if a zombie was waiting outside right now? What if....

She shook her head and flung the door open defiantly.

Nothing.

No zombies.

No sound but the wind whistling around the hilltop.

She sighed and began the trudge back to her car at the end of the cemetery.

* * *

It would be so easy to just drive away—to leave and never come back. Gorillaz would understand. Russel had said so himself.

And yet, Anna couldn’t bring herself to do that, even after all she’d been through.

Even after nearly dying.

Maybe the gravity of the situation hadn’t quite hit her yet, or maybe she was crazy, but she couldn’t leave and go back to an ordinary life. This was just so different than anything she had ever known. The escapades Gorillaz got away with were the stuff of fantasy, the stuff of nightmares and horror movies. It was the kind of world she had been dreaming to break into since she was a child, and here, right before her, stood an unlikely adventure if only she continued to stick around.

So, rather than backing up and abandoning this course altogether, Anna shifted her car into drive and sped up to Kong’s front doors. More magazines spilled out of the seat when she parked and she sighed.

The zombie slime that was splattered all over the front of her clothes had rubbed off a little onto her seatbelt, and she took extra care in scrapping the crap off with some wet wipes she kept in the glove compartment. She couldn’t be too careful. If her aunt found out where she really went, and what really happened….

Anna sighed again as she picked up the fallen magazine copies from the floor. She never had to sneak around like this before, even when she was a teenager. In fact, to some people, she still looked young enough to pass as one, and it irritated her to no end how she was never taken seriously because of it. She was twenty-one, for crying out loud, not fifteen or sixteen or whatever the hell age people assumed she was. Her aunt still teased her about that time she got carded when she was merely eating at a pub because the bartender swore she was a twelve year-old.

When she got to the living room again, she was relieved to find that it was just Noodle there, still playing away. She hadn’t moved from her spot the entire time, though she did look up to see who was at the door.

“Anna-san, _sore wa nan desu ka?_ ” she asked.

“Copies of my aunt’s magazine,” Anna replied as she strolled over to her. “Here’s one for you.”

“ _Arigatou gozaimasu_ ,” Noodle mumbled as she took it with a puzzled frown. As soon as she saw the word _Gorillaz_ in big bold print on the front, however, she grinned and pointed at it. “Gorillaz!”

Anna set the rest down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “Yeah. The interview with Gorillaz was very popular. Er... _Gorillaz wa totemo_ ….” She struggled to remember the Japanese word for popular, so she settled for, “ _Totemo kakoi desu_.”

“ _Hai!_ ” Noodle agreed, setting aside her Gameboy to flip through the magazine instead.

Russel shuffled in after a few minutes, yawning. Anna could smell the soap on him and figured he had just finished showering.

"Where's 2-D?" she asked, looking around curiously.

“He'll come up when he feels like it," he said as he plopped by Noodle. "Dat the ‘zine?”

“Yeah. Go ahead and check out the interview.” Anna gestured over at the small stack on the table.

He did just that, poring over the answers with a solemn quiet.

After some time, he offered her a friendly smile. “I liked dat intro paragraph,” he said. “Really says a lot in just a few words.”

Anna smiled back at him. “Thanks.”

Russel glanced down at her and his smile fell. “Girl, you covered in some nasty shit.”

She grimaced down at herself. While she had wiped off some of the dead ooze from her clothes earlier, the rest stubbornly stuck to the front of her clothes.

“...Yeah, I know.”

She took a deep breath. Might as well ask. After all, if she came home like _this_ ….

“Actually, can I ask you a favor?”

* * *

Anna was surprised Russel was able to find a robe for her to wear. It was a silky navy blue that was a bit too long for her, but it was all they had that fit the best.

“Thanks so much for doing this, Russel,” she said.

He shook his head. “Nah, ‘s no problem. It’s the least we can do afta makin’ you go through all dat shit.”

He had Noodle wait outside the bathroom to take most of her clothes from her (washing her underwear was out of the question, even if Russel claimed he wouldn’t mind), then the two left her to do her business.

The warm water was heaven after the cold of the dead. Noodle’s body wash and shampoo was some kiddy brand that smelled of artificial berries, but Anna liked it all the same. The tension that knotted throughout her whole body unraveled the longer she let the shower run. She imagined all her pent-up adrenaline, much like the grime that had clung to her earlier, streaming down the drain, and away. Hot showers weren’t the cure for everything, but they were damn sure close.

She had no idea how long she had taken, but by the time she wrapped the loose robe around herself and got out of the bathroom, it had grown dark outside. The evening wind fluttering in through the broken window sent a chill through her, and she pulled the robe tighter around her as she waited for the elevator to arrive. Goosebumps pricked her legs in the few minutes it took to rattle down. She slipped in silently, pushing the button for the floor above in the same movement.

When the doors slid open, she found Noodle disassembling the rifles in the hallway and putting the individual parts back into a large case. She glanced up from her work and offered Anna an unused hairbrush from the inside of her jacket with a grin.

“Thanks, Noodle,” she said and patted the little girl on the helmet.

After helping her put the rest of the equipment away, the two then headed back to the living room.

A crop of spiky blue hair poked up over the top of the couch next to Russel, and 2-D rolled his head back to look at the two girls as they came in. He mumbled something that sounded like a question, but his voice was so slurred and drenched in his Cockney accent that she couldn’t make heads or tails of what he said at all.

Much to her relief, Russel decided to answer for her. “Yeah, man, we took care of ‘em. Even Anna helped a lil’,” he said and patted him gently on the back.

2-D stared at her for so long that she looked down at herself. _Is this his robe?_ she wondered. If it was, she hoped he wasn’t mad about her using it.

Out loud, she said, “M-My clothes are in the wash.”

He turned back around to stare blankly up at the ceiling.

Anna and Noodle took either available end of the sofa, with Anna taking the spot next to the spaced-out 2-D. Noodle flipped over the back of the couch like some Olympic gymnast to plop herself next to Russel.

He put a hand over his heart, startled at first, then noogied her tiny head playfully. “Girl, how many times I gotta tell you to stop doin’ dat?” he teased.

“ _Hyakukai_ ,” she replied with a cheeky smile. Russel pushed the helmet down over her eyes, making her squeal.

Anna hid a laugh behind her hand then glanced up at 2-D. He just kept right on staring at the ceiling with that same lost look in his dark eyes. She turned to Russel, cupping a hand over her mouth as she whispered, “Um...is he okay?”

Russel turned away from teasing Noodle. “‘D's got dis condition where he gets migraines a lot, so he has t’ take a lotta meds to deal wit’ it.”

She patted the singer on the arm, not knowing how else to express her sympathy. This action seemed to rouse him a little. He blinked some of the haze away then stared down at her.

“Hey, how’re you feeling?” she asked slowly, her hand hovering over his arm.

2-D gaped at her for a few moments, as if trying to process what she said through the murkiness in his brain, then gave her a tired grin. “‘m fine,” he slurred. “Jus’ fine….”

Anna patted his arm one final time. “That’s good.”

Russel looked him over and pursed his lips. “I don’t thank we can do anotha interview today,” he said, waving a hand in front of 2-D’s face. The singer blinked slowly but showed no other sign he had even seen it. “‘D’s pretty out of it.”

She frowned but understood. The day had been exhausting for all of them.

“How about we shoot for maybe...tomorrow? At, say, nine in the morning? I’ll treat you guys to breakfast at a small coffee place I know,” she offered as she gave her hair a quick brush.

Russel's face brightened. “Oh, yeah, dat sounds great, actually. Muds ain’t much of a mornin’ person, y’know, so it might be kinda hard to drag him outta dat stupid Winnebago, but he might be a bit more tolerable if you buy ‘m ‘n espresso.”

Anna scribbled the address of the coffee place on a spare page in her notepad then handed it to him. “Cool! I’ll see you guys then!”

“Yeah,” he said as he stood up again. “Lemme go check how yo’ clothes are doin’ real quick. Be right back.”

As soon as he left the room, Noodle bounded up to the T.V. and combed through the various game cartridges to find one she wanted to play. After sparing a glance back at 2-D, Anna got up to join her. She plucked a few cartridges up, then, after a short debate with herself, separated _Rampage: World Tour_ from the rest.

She offered Noodle the game. “Do you wanna play this one?”

Noodle grinned and practically slammed the cartridge in the console.

The two laughed as they terrorized the pixelized citizens of the virtual cities. The violence was so cartoonish and exaggerated that it was strangely cathartic, in a way. This was all she wanted after the chaos of the day. Just a normal, everyday sort of connection that reassured her that everything would be alright again.

The door opened right after they finished leveling Los Angeles. Much to Anna’s utter shock, Murdoc waltzed in wearing nothing but his underwear and a towel around his neck. He scratched his beer gut with a loud yawn, looking off to the side wearily. When he leaned forward to crack his back, Anna made a strangled noise in her throat. That indiscreet bulge had unfortunately seared itself into her brain before she could look away.

Murdoc pushed his dripping bangs out of his eyes, startled when he spotted her on the couch. “Wot...Wot’re you still doing here?” he asked. “I thought you left!”

Noodle went to turn around, but Anna quickly slapped a hand over her young eyes. “Jesus Christ, Murdoc, put some pants on! There’s a kid here!”

“Wha—Noodle doesn’t care! No one cares!” A bitter scowl twisted across his face. “Why the bloody hell are you still here anyway?”

“I was going to interview you guys again. You said I could come over whenever I wanted, remember?” She shifted in her seat. “And I didn’t want to track zombie juice through my house, so….”

“So, wot, you think you can track it through mine? Do you live here now?” he snapped as he stomped up to her. His gaze fell to her clothes and his scowl twisted further. “And why the hell are you wearing my robe? You bloody thief, take it off!”

Anna pulled it tighter around her. “I didn’t steal it! Russel said he found this hanging in the laundry room and he let me borrow it!”

“Well, it wasn’t his to lend! Give it back!”

She leaned away from him when he tried to grab her by the collar.

“Not yet!”

“Not yet?” he repeated, incredulous. “ _Not yet?!_ That’s _my_ bloody robe! And I want it back _right now!_ ”

Murdoc practically dove onto the couch to reach for her. In her panic, Anna tried to scramble away, only to have her foot catch the controller wires. She accidentally unplugged them all in her mad rush and crashed to the floor, landing painfully on her shoulder. Noodle shrieked at their lost progress.

All the noise and chaos finally seemed to draw 2-D out of his stupor.

“Wha’s ‘appenin’?” he mumbled then blinked over at Murdoc lifting Anna up by the collar like a misbehaving kitten.

“Take it off and give it back right now, so help me Satan,” he growled just centimeters from her face.

She immediately drew the robe closer to cover her chest, her face glowing red. “I _can’t_ ,” she insisted. “I...only have my underwear on under this….”

Murdoc made a startled noise in his throat. After a few bewildered seconds, he burst out laughing and let her go. This laugh was soon replaced by a hacking cough, and he beat his chest to get himself to stop.

Noodle went to turn off the console, all the while muttering curses under her breath.

Anna turned to apologize, but the little girl was glaring at Murdoc. Either he hadn’t noticed or he just chose to ignore it. She sat back down with a final, “Murdoc-san…. _Baka."_

He finally turned to look at her. “Who’s the fool?” he asked, sounding amused. “Me ‘r this bird who just took some robe that don’t belong t’ her?”

He leered over at Anna again. “Don’t even fit her proper. It’s baggy ‘round all the best bits….”

She blushed and held the robe tighter over herself. The faint smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol wafted up to her from the motion and she tugged the collar up to take a curious, second sniff.

“Wot’re you smelling it for?” he asked, a laugh in his voice.

Well, at least one of them was enjoying this.

“How clean is this thing?” she grumbled.

He shrugged. “Dunno. I only used it once.”

She wrinkled her nose and pulled the collar away. “What’d you use it for?” Her voice was tinged with a disgust that assumed the worst, and Murdoc guffawed again.

“Just fer drinking beer in,” he replied. “I spilled some on it, so I just left it out fer someone else t’ take care of. It’s too nice a robe to shove in me closet ‘n forget about.”

Anna stared at it for a few seconds longer, uncertain, but ultimately let the smooth fabric fall back against her. If it was just that, then she’d wear his stupid robe for the time being. It wasn’t as if she had anything else to cover herself with.

“Well,” she said, struggling to sound unyielding, “I’m keeping this on until Russel finishes washing my clothes. So...So there.”

“ _So there_ ,” he mimicked in a falsetto voice then rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you sound real intimidating there, love. I’m quivering in my nonexistent boots.”

She glared at him, but he batted her anger away like a gnat in the summertime. She was too puny to be a threat to him. It was cute seeing her try that hard, really.

He swaggered up to her, swinging his hips in much the same way a cartoon cowboy would. Her eyes fell to watch, just for a curious moment, and he smirked in his secret triumph. He just had to lay on the charm extra thick if he wanted to win her over.

“Y’know, you don’t sound too sure about keeping that robe on, love.” His voice was a low rumble of thunder. “Wot d’ya say t’ letting me help you figure that out?”

Her narrowed eyes gleamed with a thinly-veiled distaste. “I’m _very_ sure I want to keep this on. Now leave me alone before I sock you in the mouth again.” She raised her fist, both as a warning and a barrier between them. If he got any closer, she wouldn’t hesitate to make good on that threat.

Murdoc paused his pursuit. Small as she was, he had to admit she had a wicked swing.

He slapped on a smirk and put his hands up in mock surrender. “Awright. If yer not feeling up fer it, then I’ll just try again some other time,” he said, as if he thought he were being generous.

Anna scowled. Apparently the word no wasn’t in Murdoc’s personal dictionary. “Don’t even bother,” she snapped. “I’m not interested.”

His smile fell, and an almost uncharacteristic silence blanketed the room. Something about his entire demeanor changed with that one simple act, and Anna shifted on her feet uncomfortably as he continued to stare at her from underneath the shadow of his bangs. That look reached out and probed her with a relentless curiosity. He tilted his head, just so, and set his shoulders in a way that somehow made him look bigger. He seemed...hungry. Predatory, even.

She knew that look, had seen it in the way the stray cats around her house would look at the field mice. He was sizing her up as prey, undressing her with his eyes to target any vulnerable spots she left open. Suddenly, she felt as if every part of her were exposed to him. The loose silk left nothing up to the imagination, it would seem.

Her face grew warmer despite herself.

Unfortunately for her, the bastard seemed to notice. He smiled then, a thin slash across his face so unlike the teasing grin he had on earlier. “No?” he purred, daring to take a step towards her. He swung his hips in that very same way that caught her attention last time, and her breath caught in her throat.

“You will eventually come a’knockin’, Anna. That’s a Niccals’ guarantee.”

He thrusted once at her without any warning, making her bloom bright red.

“You know where to find me,” he crowed back at her with a suggestive wink as he left the room.

Anna snatched her purse from the table and threw it at him as hard as she could right as the door shut. His awful laughter echoed in the hallway long after he had gone down the elevator. She held her arms out for a moment like she wanted to strangle something, then let them fall back to her sides with an irritated sigh.

“Anna-san…” Noodle said from her spot on the couch. “ _Gomennasai_.”

“You don’t need to apologize for him,” Anna said, dropping back in her seat. “He’s just….”

“ _Aho_ ,” Noodle muttered.

“Yeah, Murdoc _is_ a bit ‘f ‘n arse’ole,” 2-D agreed all of a sudden. His voice sounded much clearer.

The two girls laughed. “No, _aho_ means idiot in Japanese,” Anna corrected gently. “But, yeah, he’s still a complete asshole.”

The door opened once more and her purse skidded along the ground in the process. Russel picked it up with a confused frown then placed it on the table in the back.

“‘ello, Russ,” 2-D greeted.

Russel smiled as he came up to them. “‘ey, ‘D. Glad you feel betta, man.”

2-D offered him a small grin as a response.

The drummer handed a neatly folded stack of clothes to Anna. “I got yo’ clothes fresh out the dryer. They’re still pretty warm.”

She took them with a grateful smile. “Thanks so much, Russel. It really means a lot.”

“Nah, girl, ‘s nothin’.”

He sat by 2-D with a weary sigh. “Ran inta Muds earlier,” he said, turning back to Anna. “He say anythang t’ you?”

Anna’s pleased smile melted into a grimace. “Too many things, if you ask me.”

“Aw man. What’d he say?” Russel asked, his face scrunching up in primed disgust.

She shook her head. Most of the things Murdoc had suggested were too embarrassing to repeat. “He just doesn’t know when to quit,” she said instead. “It’s exhausting.”

“Yeah? Try livin’ wit’ him,” he sighed.

She couldn’t help but snort at the idea. “No thanks. I will get up and change, though.”

He turned to Noodle and said, “Noods, go wait fo’ her outside the bathroom again so I can wash dat robe.”

“Okay!” she shouted then bounded to the door.

“Speaking of which, how come you didn’t tell me this was Murdoc’s robe?” Anna asked. “He kept harassing me about how it was his and accused me of stealing it.”

Russel rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “...Thought it was ‘D’s. My bad.”

“But I don’t got a baffrobe, Russ,” 2-D added, tilting his head.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know dat, okay?” Russel groaned. “Geez, man. You makin’ me feel even more guilty.”

Anna put a reassuring hand on his arm. “It’s fine, Russel. Besides, I’ll get Murdoc back tomorrow by making him wake up super early.”

He snorted at this but she spotted the smile he was trying to hide.

Anna started for the door. “Thanks again, Russel. Bye guys.”

“Bye, Anna. See ya tomorrow,” 2-D chirped with a lanky wave.

Russel nodded at her as she slung her purse over her shoulder and followed Noodle to the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is The Clash's "Should I Stay or Should I Go?".
> 
> A bit of a shorter chapter this time, but I hope you all liked it just the same. Writing Murdoc's parts in particular were pretty funny ngl.
> 
> Until next Friday, my dudes!


	6. So Keen for You to Listen (No One's Listening)

When the elevator reached the lobby floor, both Anna and Noodle poked their heads out cautiously. Murdoc could be lurking anywhere, and the two were really not in the mood for running into a scrawny thirty-something year-old man in his underwear again. Once was already too much.

While the coast seemed clear, they could never be too careful. Besides, with the cold air seeping in through the broken window, the two at least had another excuse to rush off to the bathroom. Anna threw her warm clothes on, then despaired at the fact that the band didn’t seem to own a hairdryer. The most she could do was run a towel through her hair, maybe even open her window when she drove back home and hope the chilly night air would do the job for her.

She folded up the robe carefully, for Russel’s sake more than Murdoc’s. She’d sooner leap off the hill Kong Studios stood on than show that bastard of a bass player any hint of kindness. Lord knows he didn’t have any decency in him.

Noodle stood vigilant outside the whole time, but when Anna cracked the door open, she turned around with an easy grin. The young girl’s warm smiles were contagious. She was a pure radiance that didn’t belong in the polluted studio grounds, but it seemed Noodle wouldn’t have it any other way.

The little girl marched her to the front door with an exaggerated sense of authority that only a child could give.

“ _Jaa nee_ ,” Anna said, swinging her car keys on a finger as she waved.

Noodle grinned up at her. “ _Jaa nee!_ ”

She waved until Anna drove her car down the spire and out the cemetery’s front gates.

* * *

“Hey, Anna,” her aunt Nora greeted from the couch. She quickly put out her cigarette in a glass ashtray. “How’d it go?”

Anna heaved a long, theatrical sigh. “God, it was _awful_. None of the shops wanted to listen to my spiel about our magazine again, and then I go and trip and lose a bunch of them in a stupid puddle,” she lied as she fell on the spot next to her. Her exhaustion was real, at least.

“Them’s the breaks, kid,” her aunt joked, offering a sympathetic pat to her head. “I was thinking of heading out right about now. You wanna come with me?"

Anna leaned back in her seat, blowing out a long sigh. "No, I'm too tired for that. You go on ahead."

Her aunt gave her one last pat on the head before getting up. "Alright. Just in case...don’t wait up,” she said with a cheeky grin.

Anna waved her away. “Yeah, yeah. Go have fun.”

She stared up at the ceiling impassive until she heard her aunt’s car pull away. Her eyes slid to the door to make sure her aunt wasn’t coming back in then she took her cell phone out and called Harry.

He picked up within the second ring. “ _Hey, Anna!_ ”

“Hi, Harry. Um, I just booked another interview with Gorillaz, and I was wondering if it’d be okay if I could give it to you Monday,” she began.

He sat up straighter in his seat. “Oh, aye, Monday’s fine.”

“ _Perfect. Thanks, Harry._ ”

He sensed that she was going to hang up soon, so he spluttered, “W-Wai’, wha’ day are ya meetin’ ‘em? Maybe I could come ‘n meet ‘em, too.”

“ _Huh? How come?_ ”

Harry was glad he was just talking to her on the phone. At least then she couldn’t see how flustered he became while he scrounged for an excuse to hang out with her. “Because…. Well, y’know, because….”

The thought that he wouldn’t be all alone with her made him calm down somewhat. “Because, I mean, if I’m goin’ t’ be coverin’ Gorillaz fer you, I think I should know wha' they’re like. And, y’know, they drove a whole pub mad, so I guess I also want t’ meet ‘em fer me own sake.”

“ _That makes sense. But, um, f_ _air warning,_ ” she said. “ _They’re all kinda...eccentric to some degree._ ”

Harry’s smile fell. “How so?”

“ _Er...you’ll know when you meet them tomorrow, I guess._ ”

How could one even begin to delve into the weirdness that surrounded Gorillaz? If she told him what little she already knew about them, Harry would probably think she was joking, at best. Even she hadn’t believed it all at first. Today was an assault on her senses, on everything she ever knew to be real. Zombies existed. This was an improbable, but definite truth. The dead walked the Earth more often than she or any horror movie director would have ever imagined. The thought of how many apocalypses the world had narrowly avoided because a rock band treated their rising like nothing more than a necessary chore made her want to laugh. It was just too much. How was anyone supposed to hear any of that and take it seriously? It really was a matter of having to be there to understand.

Still, now that she knew that the band’s studio rested on a volatile zombie hotbed, she was more inclined to believe in other former impossibilities. It seemed a little far-fetched that Noodle had simply arrived at their doorstep in a crate one day, but she supposed it wasn’t any stranger than 2-D's strange affection for Murdoc despite being hit by his car. Or Murdoc in general.

“ _Oh, really, tomorrow? Wha' time?_ ” Harry asked.

“Nine in the morning. I asked them to meet me at that coffee place across the street from the office."

“ _Oh, okay. It’s a date, then._ ”

Anna snorted. “Yeah, sure, Harry. Just me, you, and four other people.”

“Well, at least I get t’ have that coffee with ya now.” He veiled his excitement with a disinterested note. He didn't want her to know how desperate she had made him at this point in their acquaintance.

Anna chuckled. “Yeah, well, I gotta go make dinner. Bye, Harry.”

“Oh, uh, bye, Anna. See ya tomorrow,” he muttered.

Harry didn’t even notice she had hung up until he found he'd been listening to a dial tone for the past minute. He blinked the cobwebs from his brain then launched out of his seat with an ecstatic woop.

Harry laughed to himself incredulously. “I’m finally goin’ out with her! I’m gonna have coffee with her!” he whispered. He was so beside himself that he fell back against his bed with a sigh.

A thought fell over him like a wet blanket. The only reason he was going out with her in the first place was because she was going to interview Gorillaz against her aunt's wishes, and, according to her, one of the members was a womanizing pervert. He was never able to figure out why she would continue to talk to a scumbag like that. The rest of the band couldn’t be much better if they let a lech like him roam free. They must have been extremely talented if someone shy like Anna was going to excuse such behavior just for some interviews, and even then….

Harry glanced at the clock on his nightstand. The seconds edged on so slowly, it was almost mocking him. He sighed again, wistfully this time, and turned over.

Tomorrow was a long way off.

* * *

Much to his dismay, Harry was the first one there. He had hoped Anna would be early too so they would have some time to chat before the band arrived. At least he managed to save a large enough table for them all.

Anna didn’t arrive until ten minutes before nine. She brushed her dark, windswept hair from her face impatiently as she scanned the place. When she finally spotted him hogging the corner table, she stepped right up to him with a relieved smile. “Wow, this place is more crowded than I thought it would be. The spot I usually park in was taken. I thought I was gonna be late.”

He chuckled and offered her the seat next to him. “Yer alrigh’. ‘s not even nine yet,” he reassured her.

“I’m gonna grab some breakfast,” she said as she dug in her purse for her wallet. “Keep a look out for them, okay? The singer has bright blue hair and their guitarist is a little kid, so I don’t think it’ll be too hard to pick them out.”

He blinked. “A kid?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds gimmicky, but she’s really talented." An image of Noodle jumping around on-stage playing at the Brownhouse quickly turned into one of her shooting down zombie after zombie with amazing accuracy.

Anna's heart sank a little. "She’s talented in a lot of things, actually....”

She offered Harry a small smile to shake off the thought of yesterday, one which he promptly returned. He sipped his macchiato as he watched her head to the line from his seat. Anna tended to fiddle with the too-long string on her jacket when she was anxious. He couldn’t help but smile at that.

She was so unlike her aunt that it was a wonder they were even related. Nora spoke as if she were gearing to fight whoever dared go against her. Her niece was always just fighting to be heard. He made sure to be as polite to his boss as possible, not just because he liked her niece, but because of he didn't want her razor wit to turn on him. The most he got out of that was not ending up on her ever-growing shitlist.

The bell for the entrance rang out then, snapping him out of his thoughts. Anna had just come back to the table with her drink and pastry when she turned to look too. She broke into an easy smile when the members of Gorillaz clambered in, looking completely out-of-place among all the uptight businessmen and hipster college kids crowding the place.

The hint of nervousness that always seemed to follow her around slid away in that instant. Harry frowned. Anna never dropped that guard around him.

“Hey, guys! I’m glad you made it!” she chirped as she walked up to them.

2-D offered her a sleepy smile while Noodle yawned as a response.

Russel chuckled at the sight. “Took me a while t’ get all their lazy butts outta bed, ‘specially Muds, but yo’ treatin’ us, so I figure it’s worth it.”

Murdoc fumed beside him, hands shoved deep in his pockets and cigarette smoldering in the corner of his mouth. Judging by the bags and dark circles under his eyes, he hadn’t anticipated being woken up this early.

Anna’s smile grew.

“Good morning, Murdoc,” she said, keeping her voice sugary sweet.

His eyes snapped to her, and his scowl deepened. “Why the hell did ya wanna meet up at nine in the bloody morning for? It’s too damn early fer interviews!”

Anna continued to smile up at him, unfazed. “What’d you say before? Something about how you need the publicity?” she said in that same sweet tone.

Murdoc’s eye twitched. He knew what she was doing, the petty, little tart. But damn it all, she was right. Gorillaz did need the publicity. He didn’t want the hype for their band to die out just because they were busy recording their album. No, he wanted the masses to be practically salivating whenever they heard their name.

So, instead of snapping back with insults of his own, he just switched the side of his mouth the cigarette hung and left it at that. It didn’t make her any less of a bitch in his eyes, though.

Anna’s smile softened into something more genuine. “C’mon. I’ll buy you guys some breakfast.”

The band fell in line behind her, Murdoc grumbling to himself all the while.

“So espressos for Murdoc and 2-D, a hot chocolate for Noodle…. What do you want, Russel?”

2-D blinked. “‘ow do ya know wot we want already, Anna?”

“Well, I remember you and Murdoc ordering espressos the day we did the first interview. Straight black, like Murdoc’s damned soul.”

At this, Murdoc made a face.

“And I don’t think Noodle should have coffee, so I’m ordering the only other thing she can have,” she added. “Now I just need to know what Russel wants.”

Russel smiled, impressed. “I’ll take a caramel cappuccino, and, uh, some chocolate croissants, I guess.”

“How many?” she asked as she thumbed through the quid left in her wallet.

“Uh...is three a’ight?” he muttered sheepishly.

Murdoc rolled his eyes. “Just clear out the whole damn bakery, why don’t you.”

Russel scowled at him, but Murdoc just turned away.

“Yeah, three’s fine,” Anna replied as they got to the counter to order.

A few minutes later, the band trailed behind her as she led them to the table. Murdoc had already stomped his cigarette out outside, the butt of which he promptly left sticking up in the concrete.

Harry moved his scattered papers out of the way and put on a polite smile. “G’mornin’,” he greeted as they all squeezed in the seats across from him and Anna.

Murdoc’s eyes slid over to him. “This yer boyfriend?” he asked in a bored voice before gulping down his espresso.

Harry bloomed bright red. “Wha—Her _boyfriend?_ ” he sputtered. “I’m…. No, I’m, uh….”

Anna’s laughter didn’t make him feel any better. “He’s just a coworker of mine. He was eager to meet you guys after the interview came out.”

Harry cleared his throat and looked away from their scrutinizing stares. The blue-haired guy’s big, empty eyes especially freaked him out. How Anna wasn’t intimidated was beyond him. The guy looked like an alien or a bug or something equally unappealing.

Unfortunately, Murdoc picked up on how flustered the simple question had made him. “I think he wants to be more ‘n coworkers, love,” he said, aiming a sharp-toothed grin at the oblivious Anna.

Harry froze. Sure, he had been flirting with her for a while, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to figure out how he felt through other people. The humiliation would be unbearable.

Much to his surprise, she just rolled her eyes and snapped, “Murdoc, shut up. It’s not like that, okay?”

Anna turned back to him with a pained smile, that tense awkwardness returning to her shoulders when she looked him in the eye. “Sorry, Harry,” she muttered.

“N-No, no, ‘s alrigh’. I’m alrigh’.” He sounded painfully unconvincing even to his own ears.

Anna seemed to believe him, though, because she introduced him to the band without a second thought to his embarrassment. They all seemed civil enough, other than the guy who had taunted him about being her boyfriend. Harry made a crack about Noodle’s name being fitting, hoping to garner a small laugh from the band, but they all just stared at him as he weakly explained, “Y’know, because she’s a wee, skinny thing, and….”

The look he got from the large drummer silenced him, and he bit his lip. Those pearl eyes of his were also pretty creepy, now that he gave them a proper look. In fact, the whole band freaked him out. The only other normal one was Anna, and even then, something must have been off about her too if she took _their_ weirdness in stride.

“So…” Anna began, twirling her pen between her fingers, “you guys are gonna start recording your upcoming album soon, right? What can the public expect to hear on it?”

Murdoc squared his shoulders. It seemed he’d be taking the lead again for this interview. “I’m still in the middle of writing a few more songs, dabbling in wot sounds good. Y’know, that sort of thing.”

2-D, already wired from the tiny espresso in his hand, shot straight up like a stalk in his seat and blurted out, “We actually got a few recorded already! That’s includin’ the one I sang for our first gig, ‘Punk’.”

Anna hastily scribbled down Murdoc and 2-D’s responses before the singer dove into more detail. “There's a funny story behind the recordin’a that one. I was lookin' fer my keys one day and I couldn't find 'em anywhere! We'd only been livin’ in Kong for, like, a week, and I ‘adn't gotten used to the place yet, righ'? So I'm tearin' up the studio fer my keys, and Murdoc catches me near the recordin’ booth.”

“Right,” Murdoc cut in, bridging his fingers together. “I told the mad twat to go ‘n record this song fer me. There was something about that unbridled rage that really spoke to me, y’know? Hit something real deep.”

2-D flashed him a deadpan look. “I wanted t’ ‘it ya real deep in the gut at the time. But ‘e finally convinced me—”

“Shoved the mic _rrrright_ in his mouth,” Murdoc cut in again, smirking over his espresso. “Poor sod didn’t expect it. The look on his face was priceless.”

Russel rubbed his temple with a long sigh.

“So I decided t’ jus’ scream the lyrics ‘n get it ova wif,” 2-D continued. “Jus’ screamed ‘em all. I was frustrated ‘n tired, but that’s wot Murdoc wanted the song to sound like.”

Anna was dismayed to see that 2-D was, once again, oddly pleased by this. Sure, they got a song out of it, but that didn’t mean what Murdoc did was okay. What bothered her most was how 2-D didn’t seem to mind all the things he was put through, so long as he made music. She knew she had called him spacy in that first interview as a good-natured tease, but this was another level of dense altogether.

Still, she scribbled down what he told her, omitting the part about Murdoc shoving the mic in his mouth. This was more for 2-D’s sake than Murdoc’s. She saw no need to feed into the idea that such behavior was just a bit of fun. It was just downright mean.

“Can you tell us what some of your other songs are called and what sound they’ll have? I mean, ‘Punk’ was obviously Gorillaz’s take on punk, but you guys say that your genre overall is ‘zombie hip-hop’,” she asked, tapping her pen against the paper.

Murdoc wagged a finger and clicked his tongue several times. “Now, now, love. Can’t have you spoiling all the surprises we got in store fer the world, now can we?”

“So when do you guys think you’ll get around to recording the rest of the album?”

He shrugged. “I think Smiffy wants us t’ start by the end of the month.” He paused to give her a quick once-over then leaned across the table with a sultry grin.

Anna kept her face expressionless. _Oh great, he’s starting to wake up more…._

“Y’know, you should pop in ‘n watch us when we get around to it. Honestly, the magic of my bass thumping up into you is gonna make ya melt,” he purred as he dropped a suggestive wink at her.

Harry bristled in his seat, but, before he could say anything, Russel edged over 2-D’s foot to stomp on Murdoc’s without remorse. He let out a yelp that made everyone in the coffee shop look over at their table. Or at least, those who weren’t staring at them already.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” Russel said. “To answer yo’ question, we got all sortsa songs planned fo’ the album. In fact, the first song we recorded togetha sampled The Human League’s ‘The Sound of the Crowd’, and it draws more from rock and electropop than punk ‘r even hip-hop. But we also got some tracks that sound different den dat, too.”

“Dude, that sounds great!” Anna said as she wrote all of that down. “I’ll be sure to watch you guys record when I have the chance.”

She pointed her pen at Murdoc right as he started to say something. "Stop right there before you get any dumb ideas,” she grumbled. "You might hurt yourself thinking that hard."

Harry gaped at her, incredulous. That shy front he had come to like about her had been so abruptly replaced by this scathingly sarcastic person he had never seen that just watching them gave him mental whiplash. Murdoc flirted with her more often than he insulted her, and even then, those were interlaced with transparent compliments. Anna kept right on batting his words away with an impatient hand. The both of them seemed to enjoy it in some twisted, almost sensual way. It pained Harry every time they leaned closer to each other over the table just to get in the other's face.

The weird-looking singer pitched in to stop Murdoc once and for all. Anna blinked, as if snapped out of a spell. Her grateful, if startled smile was returned without any hesitation. The two then started talking about video games, of all things, and the kid chimed in every now and then in some foreign language.

The whole thing was baffling. He had known her much longer than Gorillaz had, and yet here he was, watching from the outside. He might as well have been invisible for all the attention she was giving him. In fact, this had long since stopped being an interview and turned into more of a casual get-together between friends. Only he seemed to be excluded from that group.

 _Although,_ he thought as he grimaced at the band, _I don’ think I’d want t’ be mates with any of ‘em anyway. I mean, that nonce is bad enough on his own, 'n the singer is righ’ odd. I don’ even know wha' the wee lass is on abou’. Pure gibberish, really._

At most, all Harry would allow himself was a pained smile. He had no idea how to interject himself into the conversation seeing as how he had never touched a video game in his life. He was surprised that even the bass player was getting into it, old as he must have been. Anna was absolutely ecstatic as she explained something to him, and he seemed to actually understand whatever it was she was saying.

Harry’s smile warped into a look of distaste. If even that perverted bass player could get along with her under the right circumstances, why was it so difficult for _him_? It just wasn’t fair.

“Oh, hey, guys, I should be going now, actually,” Anna said, putting her things back in her purse. “My aunt wanted me to look over some things for her before noon, so I should really get on that.”

Harry blinked. She was leaving so soon? He hardly got to talk to her at all!

“Wot kinda fings?” 2-D asked, genuine in his curiosity.

“Just some articles about some local underground bands. I have to revise them before we submit the final copies in for printing,” she replied as they all got up. The band members converged around her as they started to leave, and Harry hung in the back, absolutely defeated.

A sudden hand clapped onto his shoulder and pulled him back. He almost stumbled over his own feet, then whirled at the last second, only to come face-to-face with the smirking bass player. Well, almost face-to-face. The guy was a couple inches shorter than him.

Murdoc slung an unwarranted arm around his shoulder and said in a low voice, “Look, mate, I know you fancy her. Anna, I mean.”

Harry blushed scarlet but said nothing. That knowing gleam in the bastard’s eyes was enough to shove the denials back down his throat. There’d be no point.

“I’m pretty interested meself. Not really on a personal level, but y’know...she seems like someone I’d have a lovely night with,” he added, chuckling all the while.

Harry twisted out of Murdoc’s grip, seething. “Don’ you dare touch ‘er. Yer righ’ mental, y’are.”

Murdoc’s grin only grew. “Oh, wot tipped ya off, mate?”

“‘m no’ yer mate,” Harry snarled.

“Oooh, I guess not.” Murdoc threw his hands up in mock defense. “But at least hear me out, yeah? The way I see it, we can both have her, if I play my cards right. Which I always do.”

Harry made a face at this, so he quickly added, “Oh, mate, mate, _mate_. I know you don’t want competition, but without my help, you'd _never_ get her. Sure, you'd be her friend, at the most, yeah, but let's be honest. She won't see you as anything more ‘n that so long as you continue to watch from the sidelines.”

He was met with silence, but the tension in Harry’s shoulders ebbed away a little. Murdoc’s eyes gleamed at the chance. “Listen, let _me_ have her first,” he proposed, as casually as if they were discussing what they were going to have for lunch. Harry supposed it was all the same to Murdoc. “Then I'll dump her arse in the next second, ‘n who better to be the rebound guy than you, eh? Someone already close to her, someone who's always wanted to treat her right, unlike horrible, ol', sexy Murdoc.”

Harry heard Anna laughing up ahead. The sound tugged his gaze to her despite himself. The other band members laughed right along with her, and he felt even more out of place watching it all. That sense of exclusion swelled within him and he dared look back at the bass player once more.

Murdoc seemed amused by his juvenile pining, but stuck his hand out to him all the same. “Wot d’ya say, eh? You willing fer me to be the bad guy?”

The shrewd gleam in his mismatched eyes disgusted Harry beyond belief. Murdoc saw Anna as nothing more than a game, an object to be used and thrown away once he got bored.

Anna laughed again further ahead, and his heart clenched. She would never laugh like that for him if he went on like this. Murdoc knew it. Hell, _he_ knew it, deep down. He just didn’t like admitting it.

Harry clasped Murdoc’s calloused hand and gave one firm shake.

It was enough. The pact was made.

“Well then,” he said, a knife-like grin stretching across his depraved face. “It’s a deal.”

To say a chill ran down his spine would be a severe understatement. It was as if the moment Harry took his hand, a sharp burst of ice snaked throughout his entire body, threading through every cell as a painful reminder of what he'd just done.

The chaotic gleam in Murdoc's shadow-shrouded eyes, Harry felt, would haunt him for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a lyric from Blur's "Charmless Man". Blur isn't technically any of the Gorillaz' virtual members' musical influences (unless you count Noodle's small crush on Graham Coxon). Since Damon Albarn is the lead singer for both bands irl, though, I figure it counts.
> 
> Another chapter of Murdoc being an outright bastard. In other words, Murdoc being Murdoc. I've never written a character as sleazy as him before, and I admit, it's surprisingly fun writing his parts.
> 
> Until next Friday, my dudes!


	7. Rockers Rock

****Of course Murdoc wasn’t an honest man. Anyone could tell just by looking at him. Shifty eyes, overly charming disposition, and a wicked grin earned him different reputations among different groups of people. To his lovers, he was a sleazy good time. To others, he was a lying, cheating bastard with little regard for anyone but himself. Although, those two groups tended to cross over more often than not, so he supposed that in itself was a lie. He only had one reputation, and that was for being a complete bastard to anyone who had the misfortune of crossing his path.

He liked to surround himself in these little untruths. They were just so easy to craft, and even easier to wield. People were often taken by pretty words, injecting them into their systems as eagerly as one might inject heroin. Both gave one that same warmth that seeped through the veins, at any rate.

The deal was a sham, naturally. Murdoc could easily pick out someone far more attractive to have for a night or two from some street corner. Anna was only his ticket out of obscurity and nothing more. Once he’d made it big, as he was sure to do with the Devil himself on his side, he’d forget her and move on to the next slag. That was how it always was, and that was how it always would be. He had no time nor any inclination towards commitment for anything but his band.

He had hoped that Harry bloke would have had more of a backbone to refuse him, but Murdoc must have picked a time when he was really feeling the desperation. He would have appreciated the challenge of dodging around a potential boyfriend, but alas, he, like many others, was too taken by the first shiny opportunity he had presented him. He hadn’t even tried to sell it to him either, only given him a glimpse of pyrite with the promise of gold. How boring.

Anna, however, was constantly surprising him. She was quick to dissect his words, examine their true intent, then toss them back at him and call him out for the snake-oil salesman he was.

She was firm in her stance against him despite being attracted to him. Oh, she might deny it—deny it very heavily, in fact—but he knew when he had someone’s attention. Her warm brown eyes had a tendency to roam when she talked, and back in that café, they had roamed quite a lot over him. Sure, to an untrained eye, it might look as if she were giving him several unimpressed looks, but he knew better. He had seen her glance at his mouth more often than his eyes when he teased her.

Now it was only a matter of winning her over for a night, or several if he got lucky. He had no doubt that Anna was more than capable of handling him. After all, if she could take on a few zombies and survive, what more was a little fun in the bedroom? Quite harmless in comparison, really. At least there, any bites to her flesh wouldn’t result in some wretched death.

Murdoc whistled to himself as he tromped over to his phone. With no competition standing in the way, propositioning her would be a cinch.

* * *

It was one of the busier days at Sound Underground’s office. Anna picked up phone calls left and right from eager fans, from other departments asking her to look over certain things, even from some random person who thought he called a take-out place by accident. The place had grown pretty hectic since they released the second Gorillaz interview in last week’s issue, and it didn’t seem like their workload was going to let up anytime soon.

Of course, Harry received all the praise. Even her aunt had come to thank him personally at his desk, and Anna couldn’t help but eavesdrop from her cubicle next to him. His subdued reaction seemed to be mistaken for him being humble because she heard her aunt laugh and slap him on the back. “Don’t be so modest, Harry,” she chided teasingly. “It doesn’t suit anyone in this business.”

Harry could only reply with a nervous chuckle.

After slapping him on the back once more, Nora left to go over the next issue before it went to print.

Anna’s eyes gleamed over the partition that separated their cubicles, flashing him an encouraging thumbs-up before going back to her work. He glanced all around him, but the others were too busy to notice him. Just as well then.

He wheeled his chair over to her and muttered, “All this praise is puttin’ me off. I mean, I jus’ sat there hardly doin’ anythin’. Didn’ even ask any questions.”

Anna smiled. “It’s fine, Harry. If I get another chance to interview them, maybe—”

Her office phone rang in the next moment. “Oh, hold on, let me get this real quick.”

She cleared her throat and sat up straighter in her desk chair. “Hello, this is Anna Santos, writer and editor for Sound Underground. How may I—”

“ _Anna, love!_ ” a gruff voice shouted in place of a greeting.

Harry’s shoulders fell. “I’ll jus’ leave you to it then,” he mumbled as he went back to his desk.

She threw him an apologetic smile then hissed into her phone, “Murdoc, what the hell? I thought my aunt blocked your number!”

_“Yeah, well, I got a new phone. It’s great, really. It’s way smaller than that fat block I used to carry around. ‘n I figured, y’know wot? Might as well get a new number along with it. So who else would I save my first call with it for than my favorite reporter, eh?”_

“That’s bullshit if I ever heard it.”

“ _I_ _can show you once you get over here, if you’d like._ ”

Anna tapped her pen against the desk, raising an eyebrow. “And what makes you think I have time to come over to Kong today?”

“ _We’re planning to begin recording today._ ”

Her pen clattered to the floor.

“ _S_ _o d’ya think you can come over?_ ”

She hated how he sounded as if he expected her to simply drop everything she was doing just to watch them, or more precisely, _him_ play. But damn it all, the offer was tempting, though not for the reasons he might assume. In truth, she’d longed to hear Gorillaz play again since the night she first heard them. She had never understood how people could be addicted to adrenaline rushes or why junkies were so willing to chase after their next high despite the costs, but, after just one Gorillaz song, she knew. And she just had to have her fix. Had to, or she’d crumble.

Anna stared at the papers before her. If she skipped her break to work straight through the day, she’d definitely be able to go. It was knowing what lie to tell her aunt that was the trouble.

After a beat of silence, she began, “Hey, Murdoc, can I ask you something?”

“ _Ask away, love._ ”

“Why do you care so much?”

“ _...Why do I_ wot?” He sounded absolutely horrified at the idea.

Anna managed to bite her laughter back down. “I mean, why are you going to all these lengths to talk to me? I’m not worth all that effort.”

He was silent for so long that she thought he had hung up, so she was startled when he finally replied, “ _Ah, you’re selling yourself a bit short there, darling. Any bird who manages to fight against an army of the undead is surely worth more than she lets on, eh?"_

“Murdoc, I killed one zombie.”

“ _Er, yeah, well, uh…._ ” He cleared his throat and slapped on a terrible impression of a New York accent, “ _You know what you got, Anna? You got moxie._ ”

Anna frowned. “Dude, what the hell was that supposed to be?”

“ _Wot? It’s from…. Never mind. The point is you’ve managed to pique the interest of the one-’n-only Murdoc Niccals."_

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“' _Course it is!_ ”

Anna caught her disgruntled reflection in the dark screen of her computer. Her short, black hair stuck out in stray, unkempt wisps. The beauty mark under her right eye looked more and more like a speck of dirt the longer she stared at it, her lips were chapped, and her bronze complexion looked sallow under the harsh fluorescence. What was there to like? She was a mess.

She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Your vision’s wack, dude. I’m not even pretty.”

 _“Come off it. Yer cute enough to be in a magazine. Not all that surprising, really, considering you work for one._ ”

She blushed at the compliment then quickly shook it off. There was no way he actually meant that. And besides—

“ _Besides,_ ” he added, “ _aren’t we mates?_ ”

There was an air of innocence in his voice that she didn’t believe for a second. Still, the fact that he considered her a friend made her pause. Ever since she came to Essex a few months ago, she had pretty much kept to herself. It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to make new friends, but starting over in a new country with new customs made it that much more difficult. The only person she really talked to other than her aunt was Harry, but he was just an acquaintance, at best. It wasn’t as if they hung out outside of work anyway.

Could she consider Murdoc a friend? He’d done nothing but harass her since they met. He was creepy, definitely a pervert, and vile beyond belief. Sure, he could be alright, at times, even surprisingly kind when he wanted to be. He had saved her from being eaten by zombies, after all. What with all the chaos and his irritating flirting after, she hadn’t found the chance to properly thank him for it.

He seemed to think nothing of it, not out of a sense of chivalry, but because he really thought it was nothing. If he found out how she felt about it, though, he was bound to use this to his advantage. Their tentative acquaintanceship would devolve into something more depraved, and Anna would not stand for that.

She hated owing someone like him, but she always made it a point to settle her debts.

Anna sighed. _No_ , she decided. _He’s not my friend_. _Not really. But the rest of the band…._

The memories of Russel doing his best to comfort her after that zombie attack, 2-D cheering her on while she battled Noodle’s Pokémon, little Noodle grinning up at her every time she saw her all swirled around her in one warm mass, and she smiled.

 _Yeah, I guess I could consider them friends_.

“ _You still there?_ ” His voice broke through the haze of her thoughts.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Still here.”

“ _Wot’s on yer mind, love?_ ”

She smiled despite herself. “Why do you want to know?”

“ _Curious, I suppose._ ” There was a shrug in his voice. “ _Don’t got much to do ‘round here if we’re not killing zombies or recording music._ ”

“Your time’s really that empty, huh?”

“ _Well, it wouldn’t be if the rest of ‘em got their arses inta gear. Honestly! We’d be nearly done by now if the slags weren’t all so damn lazy._ ”

Anna snorted. “Well, at least you guys are recording today.”

“ _There is that,_ ” he mused. “ _Anyway, are you coming today ‘r wot?_ ”

She let out a defeated sigh. “Yeah, alright, I’ll come after work.”

“ _Perfect. Be prepared to have yer world totally rrrrrocked, love._ ”

And with that completely laughable statement, he hung up. Anna put her phone away with a dismissive snort, and buckled down to finish the rest of her work.

* * *

Anna intentionally chose a time her aunt was busy to come to her office.

“Hey, Aunt Nora?” she began.

Her aunt covered the receiver of her phone and looked up impatiently.

“I’m gonna see what good food places there are around here, so I won’t be having dinner at home tonight.”

Her aunt waved her away. The excuse she gave was so reasonably mundane that she glossed it over. “Yeah, okay. Don’t stay out too late,” Nora said quickly before going back to her phone call.

Anna couldn’t help but grin as she sped to the parking lot.

The drive to Kong was easier this time. She found she didn’t have to drive nearly as many circles around the hill to build up the speed she needed, though she was thrown by the sharp curve she forced her car into as it bolted up the slope.

Her hands actually started to tremble when she parked in front of the studio. This was it.

An electronic panel was imbedded in the wall next to the door and she tentatively poked the only button on it. Instead of hearing a doorbell, the screen crackled to life and Russel’s face peered into it.

“ _Dat you, Anna?_ ” he asked, sounding oddly out of breath.

“Yeah. Hi, Russel.”

“ _I’ll come get you. Hold up,_ ” he said and the screen faded to black again.

Anna adjusted her purse strap up her shoulder as she swung back and forth on her feet. Her excitement was a continuous well that bubbled up from within her, so she decided to just let it run its course, no matter how childish it made her look.

Russel smiled when he opened the door, one she returned with an undisguised verve. “‘ey, girl. C’mon in,” he said as he stepped aside.

“Thanks for inviting me over.”

He nodded. “Glad you could come. I’m gettin’ tired’a hearin’ Muds and ‘D fightin’. They been at it fo’ almost half an hour now, ‘n we barely recorded shit.”

Anna offered him a sympathetic pat on his arm as she followed him down a long corridor to the left of the lobby. “Sorry, dude.”

“Yeah, well, let’s hope they’re done by the time we get to the booth.” The weary note in his voice was coated in doubt.

A neon green sign that read “Cinema” hung above the first door in the hall. That would have been odd enough in itself if there wasn’t already a tasteless plastic breast stuck to the wall outside the room. Someone had taped a piece of paper with the word “Ring” underneath as a vulgar joke. She stared at it, but Russel made no comment as he walked past, so neither did she.

The door at the end of the hall opened to another corridor filled from floor to ceiling with monitors along one wall. A few crackled static back at them. Russel made no effort to turn them off, only stepped over some rubble that had spilled from the broken drywall and finally into a small room that was much neater than the rest of the studio. A few toys and other baubles sat in their rightful places on the shelves, and some dishes were stacked neatly on the counter by the sink to be put away later.

Familiar voices floated to them from the open door ahead. Russel let out another long sigh as he tromped in, Anna at his heels.

“I’m telling you, yer voice is too damn raspy for this track!” Murdoc snapped. “Drink some water before I drown you in it.”

2-D scowled down at him, but Murdoc was not one to be intimidated by height. “We been ‘ere two fuckin’ hours doin’ the same fuckin’ song! Why can’t we jus’ mix wha’ we got?”

“‘Cause wot we _got_ ain’t good enough, Face-Ache! Yer warbly vocals‘re dragging the whole damn song down!”

Noodle had been strumming her guitar absently while she ignored the two, but she did look up when Anna and Russel came in. She grinned at them and, after setting aside her guitar and dodging the open water bottle Murdoc hurtled at 2-D’s head, hugged the both of them in turn.

Anna smiled down at her. “Glad to see you too, Noodle.”

Her smile fell as she looked back up at the scene in front of her, unimpressed. Murdoc paused mid-throw while 2-D peeked up at her from his cringing on the floor, drenched to the shoulders. The rest of the water pooled out onto the wood.

Murdoc cleared his throat and not so discreetly tossed the new bottle behind him. “You’re late,” he said, brushing a hand through his hair.

Russel held out a hand to help 2-D up, throwing a warning glare back at Murdoc.

“I said I’d come after work,” Anna huffed as she offered 2-D a pack of tissues. “You don’t have to be such a hardass.”

Murdoc scowled. “If I don’t get on his arse, he’ll just keep giving lousy performances.”

“What he gave was fine, Muds,” Russel snapped. “Stop bein’ picky.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. I’m looking out for wot’s best for the band here!”

Noodle led Anna to the back of the room without even sparing a glance at all the arguing, quietly stealing the stool from behind Murdoc for her to sit on instead. He was too upset with the others to notice.

Anna wasn’t even sure how to intervene to get them all to stop, so she tried to focus on the melody Noodle played instead. The little girl’s strumming grew more and more frustrated the longer the argument went on until finally, she yelled, “ _URUSAI! YAMETE!_ ”

The men all shut their mouths at once and turned to gawk at her. She huffed and went back to her playing without another word.

Anna repressed the urge to giggle at their startled expressions. This was all backwards. Noodle was acting more like a parent than the three actual grown men in the room.

Murdoc blew out an exasperated breath and went to sit down, but with the stool behind him now gone, he fell on his ass and nearly flipped head over heels backwards instead.

It was silent for one, stunned moment before everyone in the room burst out into tension-relieving laughter.

He scrambled to his feet, red in the face as he glared at them all. “Th-Think it’s funny, do you?” he snarled, pointing an accusing finger at everyone. “Think it’s funny to trick me? I’ll show you wot’s fuckin’ funny around here. We’re recording again! Double time!”

Russel pouted. “C’mon, Muds. Can’t we take a break already? I’m hungry.”

“Weeeeelllllll, that’s too bad fer you, innit?” Murdoc snapped. “Now get yer arses back to yer places ‘n play some goddamn music already! We got ourselves a guest, wankers.”

He whirled to her all of a sudden and yelled, “Anna!”

She straightened up in her seat, suddenly alert.

“Go over to the next room ‘n press the blinking red button when I give the word,” he said, his tone surprisingly mild.

She blinked several times, taken aback, but went off to do just that. As it turned out, the other room was chock-full of a number of dialed panels, keyboards, synths, and other spare instruments she knew better than to touch. The button Murdoc wanted her to press was on a large panel in front of a window looking into the room the band was in.

 _Ah_ , she realized.  _So that’s the recording booth then._

A small microphone was attached to the panel and she pushed the button near it. “Hey, uh, can you guys hear me?” she said experimentally.

Murdoc cupped a hand over his mouth and yelled, “Loud ‘n clear, love! Hold on!” His voice was muffled by the thick glass. He turned to 2-D patting his shoulders with the tissues Anna had handed him and snapped something she couldn’t quite make out. Whatever it was, though, it pissed 2-D off. He threw a crumpled tissue at Murdoc’s shoulder before approaching his mic and keyboard.

Much to her surprise, Murdoc held a gleaming violin under his chin instead of cradling his bass. Right when he raised the bow, she pushed the button to record.

Russel hit it off with a short beat and 2-D crooned into the microphone. After about twenty seconds, he began, “ _Yeah…. Dream on my world. I live on my world. Goin’ off my head down to somewhere, goin’ on a dancehall tune…."_

A shiver ran down her spine. He sounded so melancholy, so mutedly maudlin that she felt a pang in her chest. When Murdoc added the bitter sting of his violin, however, the pang only grew. It was as if the sound pricked through her heart and wormed ever deeper to its core. The violin blended well with 2-D’s sharp falsetto, but what really struck her was _how_ he was playing. He held the instrument as if it were fragile, pressing down on the strings just so to coax the melody out of it.

His entire being smoldered with an intensity that snaked around her and kept her rooted to the spot. Those eyes, so fierce in their focus, soon flickered up to her. He didn’t smile at her, showed no sign of being amused by her reaction. Just stared at her like a challenge. There was a firm pull to his gaze, like the coil of gravity one felt when they stood at the edge of a cliff. Anna found herself leaning closer to the window, if only to defy her vertigo.

2-D suddenly stopped singing, his face screwed up as if he smelled something bad. Murdoc broke eye contact, releasing her from his strange spell. She let out a strangled breath and almost slumped to the floor in her embarrassment. The warmth that bloomed in the pit of her stomach the moment he caught her eye had spread everywhere else, and she slapped her hands over her face to rid herself of the remnants of that gaze from her memory. There was no reason to have been as affected by it as she was, and yet here she sat, reduced to a blushing mess by a mere look.

Anna shook her head. Jesus Christ, what was wrong with her?

Murdoc lowered the violin from his chin. “Did I tell you to stop? Get singing, dullard!”

2-D sneezed repeatedly instead of answering. “Burdock, I can’t...can’t…” he said in a plugged-up voice, but was interrupted by another sneeze.

Murdoc stabbed his bow into 2-D’s cheek, twirling it painfully in his jaw. “The hell you can’t! We’re not leaving until the song’s _done_ , understand?!”

2-D scowled, but seemed too tired to argue otherwise. He hacked up his snot and spat it out on the floor. The loogie floated in the water that had spilled out next to him, sailing back into the discarded water bottle like some misguided piece of algae.

Murdoc shoved another water bottle to his chest then stomped back over to his mic, grumbling curses to himself all the while. 2-D chugged a good portion, cleared his throat, then pointed back at the band when he was ready to continue.

Anna’s eyes kept trailing back to Murdoc as 2-D crooned on, but he just scowled down at his sheet music. That wrenching feeling in her gut slowly subsided, and she slumped back in the swivel chair in front of the large dialed panel. What exactly was she hoping for? Did she even want him to look at her again like that, all ferocity and fire?

...What did it mean for her if she did?

After another minute or so, the band finally finished. Russel’s drumsticks rolled from his open palms to the floor with a pitiful clatter, and his cymbals clanged like a bad joke when he slumped over his drum kit. 2-D beat on his chest in a futile attempt to stop his hacking fit, while Noodle let out a loud yawn.

Murdoc was the only one of them with any energy left. After placing the violin back in its case, he rushed over to the room Anna was in and all but shoved her aside to play the song back. She glared at him as the chair spun back around again, but he shushed her before she had the chance to say anything.

When the recording ended, he pushed the mic button and yelled, “We finally got it! Great recording sesh today, men! Really outdid yerselves this time.”

2-D stomped out of the booth, muttering under his breath. The last few words caught in his throat as he coughed up a painful storm.

“Ooooh, sounds like a sore throat, ‘D,” Murdoc said, clicking his tongue.

2-D let out a pained wheeze as a response.

“Might wanna drink something warm. Preferably not talk for a few days just t’ be on the safe side.” Murdoc’s sharp-toothed grin held no real sympathy, only a twisted sense of pleasure.

The singer flipped him off over his shoulder and slammed the door behind him. Noodle burst into squeaky laughter at the sight, nearly keeling over in her seat. Murdoc’s smile melded into something more genuine before fading away.

Russel cleared a whole row of chips from the cabinets in the other room then plopped himself on the couch with a grunt. “Man, yo' like a fuckin’ drill sergeant."

“Oh, really? Thank you,” Murdoc said, seemingly touched by the comparison. “Now get off your arse ‘n help me and Noodle clean all this shit up! That’s an order, Private Hobbs!”

Russel scowled. “Muds, man, c’mon. I’m fuckin' exhausted ‘n I haven’t eaten since we started recordin’ the song!”

Before Murdoc had a chance to egg him on further, Anna stood up and said, “I can help. Just tell me where everything goes.”

Murdoc seemed taken aback by her sudden offer, but soon smoothed it over with a half-smile. “Appreciate it, love,” he mumbled before looking over at Noodle still strumming away. Her fingers wriggled unsteadily over the strings and she frowned each time she played a wrong note.

“Noodle, wot’d I tell you about practicing too much?” he said as he kneeled in front of her. “Look, it’s all fine and dandy when we’re recording, but I don’t want you working yer lil’ fingers off.”

She blinked up at him but kept right on playing discordant notes.

“I said _enough_ , Noodle.” He grabbed her little hand and forced it away.

“Murdoc-san!”

Purpling calluses had sprouted on the pads of her fingers. She tried to keep a poker face as he pushed down on one of them, but Murdoc managed to draw a small wince from her the more he pressed.

He let go with a short chuckle. “See? Hurt, don’t it? So why don’t you stop fer now?”

Noodle sighed theatrically. “ _Hai_ _…_ ” she grumbled as she shrugged off her guitar.

“Atta girl.” He patted her helmet as she passed him to wrap up the wire that attached her guitar to the amp. Anna helped them put away their equipment in their proper places, and the three finished up in just a few minutes.

Noodle released another wide yawn that showed all her teeth.

Murdoc snorted. “Go take a nap, ya lil’ snot. We’re done here.”

She frowned as she rubbed at her eyes with her sleeves. “ _Demo Anna-san_ —”

“It's okay, Noodle,” Anna said. “I’m going soon. Go rest.”  

Her warm smile was enough of a reassurance. Noodle nodded once then toddled off to her room without another word of protest.

An awkward silence settled between the two left in the booth.

Anna stretched to alleviate some of that tension. It felt good after hunching over boxes of wires and moving mic stands around. Murdoc eyed the bit of her tan stomach that was exposed when her shirt rode up. It was such a small bit of skin, enough to see a bit of a curve, really. If he trailed along that simple, soft curve with his fingers, what sort of noise would she make?

His eyes snapped back to attention when the shirt fell back into place.

“So,” she began, looking up at him warily. He struggled to keep his face neutral. Had she caught him staring?

“You’re decent when you want to be, I guess," she said.

He almost wanted to laugh. No, then.

“Wot d’ya take me for, eh?” he scoffed and plopped himself down on a nearby stool. "A heartless bastard?"

She paused for a moment then decided to sit in the stool next to him. “Maybe.”

Murdoc laughed, a loud, genuine sound that made her smile, just a little.

“That hurts, love!” he said, putting a hand over his wounded heart. “I got a heart just like any other man. ‘O! never say that I was false of heart’!”

Anna tried her best not to laugh. “Shakespeare? Really?”

There was an amused gleam in his eyes. "Wot? Too corny for you?"

She shrugged. “Just never took you to be the type to quote poetry out of the blue like that. Or even the type to like it.”

“Love, any _good_ song should be pure poetry. I don’t write any’a that mass-produced clatter you hear on radio ‘r T.V. nowadays. No, while those drooling teeny-boppers were off sucking their thumbs, I studied all the greats to understand wot made ‘em so great, so I can be even better.”

A laugh escaped her lips before she could catch it. It wasn’t a malicious note, but one of admiring, if incredulous, acceptance of what he had said. “Even better than Shakespeare?” she managed to choke out through her short bursts of giggles.

He smirked at her. “Better ‘n all of ‘em, love.”

“That’s quite the goal you have,” she said with just a hint of a tease in her voice.

“It’s one I’ll manage. Don’t you worry your pretty, lil’ head.”

She looked away to smile at the floor. Even if his offhand compliments were nothing but shoddy lies, she couldn’t help but feel a bit pleased by them all the same.

“Muds, how the hell you gonna manage dat?” Russel asked from the other room.

Murdoc drew his sparkling eyes away from her to glare at what little of Russel he could see through the doorframe. “I’m working on it, awright? Just eat yer crisps, ‘n mind yer own business.”

“Man, dese are chips.”

Anna’s snort brought his attention back to her.

“Wot? You don’t believe me either?” he grumbled.

“No, no, I think you’d be able to manage it. The song you recorded today was enough to get me intrigued, at least,” she admitted.

“Yeah? W-W-Wot about it did you like?” He scooted his stool closer to her and smiled like an eager child.

Anna leaned away just slightly, a habit of hers whenever people got too close to her that she had yet to break. “Everything, I guess? The song was just so defeated and lost, y’know? Like something out of an old detective movie. And that violin part in the middle was amazing. I can’t believe you play that well.”

He checked for dirt in his nails as if he were disinterested, but his pleased smile gave him away. “Yeah, well, y’know. I’m a man of many,  _many_ talents. ‘sides, if ya like that one, we got another song that sounds even more noir. Though there’re some hints of Morricone’s spaghetti western compositions near the end, too.”

“Morricone?” she repeated. “What’s a Morricone?”

“Y’know, Ernesto Morricone, the film composer?”

She shook her head, so he added, “He made some’a the most iconic movie scores ever. Take his theme from _The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly,_ for instance. That bit’s always used fer standoffs fer some reason, even though ‘The Ecstasy of Gold’ was used in the final standoff of the film.”

When she continued to stare at him, he mimicked the theme as best he could through whistling and various raspy “bwah”-sounding noises. It was only then that she seemed to recognize it.

“Oh, _that_ song!” she said, clapping her hands at the realization. “I’ve heard that theme in cartoons before, but I’ve never watched the movie it came from. I just thought it was a cartoon thing.”

Murdoc reeled back as if she had slapped him. “You’ve _never_ seen _The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly?_ ”

“Uh...no?”

He ran his hand down his face, stricken by the sudden awareness of their age difference. “Christ, the depravity….”

Before she could point out that he had cursed Christ’s name instead of Satan’s, he got up and gestured for her to follow him. “C’mon, get up. We’re gonna watch it right now.”

“Wait, _now?”_

“Uh, _yeah_ , now. Wot, you got something better t’ do?”

She didn’t, but the thought of being alone with Murdoc yet again made her uncomfortable. It wasn’t because she was afraid of what he’d do, though she had no doubt that he’d pull some sort of sleazy trick while they sat alone together. Her pepper spray and her fists were more than enough of a deterrent in that regard.

Those infernal eyes of his, however…. She set her jaw. That look he had given her earlier still ghosted in the back of her mind, twisting around her neck like a vice. She had an idea why such a look had made her feel so warm, and she didn’t like where it led.

Anna puffed out an exasperated breath. What was she so worked up for? Murdoc was a ridiculous old man with a wonky nose and weird eyes. Nothing to get excited over, in retrospect.

“Ask Russel if he wants to watch, too,” she said, still unable to look up into those dark eyes of his.

“Russ is asleep. You don’t wanna be disturbing him, believe me.”

“Wha—”

Russel’s loud snore from the other room cut her off, and she frowned.

“So am I watching alone? Wot’s yer problem?” Murdoc asked. He had the nerve to look genuinely confused.

Anna shook her head and got up from her seat. “No problem,” she lied, pushing past him to get away from her more troubling thoughts. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Augustus Pablo's "Rockers Rock". Admittedly, the track is much more laid-back and chill than the events of the chapter, but the song title itself fits really well. And I guess it kinda matches the mood of the band's dumber antics lol.
> 
> I had tons of fun writing this chapter, but I'm really excited for what's coming up next! Stay tuned~
> 
> Also #FreeMurdoc. Let my boy go already.
> 
> Until next Friday, my dudes!


	8. Sunshine in a Bag

****Murdoc led her back through the hall, sliding through topics without waiting for much of a response from her. He was just so sure she was hanging onto his every word that he didn’t bother turning to check. Anna hated how right he was.

Unfortunately for her, he was quite the charming storyteller. It wasn’t so much that she believed his little tales to let him go on as he did, but more because she was just so taken by the way he would tell them. He framed himself in such grandiose ways that she couldn’t help but laugh at it all. Of course, this would only encourage the otherwise unaware Murdoc, and he grew more and more animated as he spoke.

“Oh! I never got the chance to show you my phone, did I?” he asked, finally turning back to her.

Anna shook her head.

“Right! Hold on!” Murdoc lifted his shirt and patted at his back pockets impatiently. Her eyes fell to the half-hidden tattoo on the small of his back.

If he noticed her staring, he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, his voice took on the low, abrasive turn of tires on gravel as he held his phone out to her. “Chhhhheck it out.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she examined it. “A Nokia, huh? That’s a pretty good phone. Really durable.”

“Oh? How du-dura...?” He cleared his throat. “How strong is it?”

“I heard it takes a lot to break them.”

His eyes gleamed with an excited malice. “Really?” he mumbled, rubbing his chin as he took it back. “So if I toss it at, say, a wall, it’d be fine?”

“Er, that’s what I heard, but—”

Murdoc reeled his arm back, immediately aiming for the wall next to him. She threw her hands at him in a panic and yelled, “But I don’t think you should test it out!”

“Why not?”

His childish pout was infuriating.

“Jesus, you _just_ got that phone, right? Why would you waste all that money on a possibility?”

“Clearly you’ve never been gambling.”

Anna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, dude, just...don’t throw it at the wall, okay?”

He lowered his arm, slow and reluctant.

She didn’t even have time to sigh in relief when Murdoc added, “Y’know, maybe I could toss it at Face-Ache’s head ‘n see which one breaks first. Although, you can’t really break wot’s already broken, so I guess there’d be no point, hm?”

Anna groaned in disgust. “Why are you so mean to him? 2-D’s your friend, right?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

He snorted up some snot then indiscreetly spat it on the floor away from her. “‘sides, I’m not being _mean_. I’m just tryin’a toughen him up, that’s all. The boy’s too soft ‘n pretty for his own good. If we want our fans to worship him like the cutting-edge, spiky-haired, black-eyed god I know I can shape him t’ be, then I gotta cut some’a that softness away, y’know? Doesn’t work all that well, unfortunately. He just keeps following me around like some lost puppy no matter wot, and, like the stupid mongrel he is, all he really knows how to do is fetch and roll over.”

His cackle raked against her eardrums, and she grimaced.

“2-D’s perfectly capable of acting tough for performances when he wants,” Anna grumbled.

Murdoc scoffed. “Oh yeah? Since when?”

“He did it for your first gig,” she snapped. “And he doesn’t actually need to _be_ tough to impress people. His pretty boy looks are more in line with his melancholic voice anyway. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but girls dig that kind of thing right now.”

He threw her an annoyed sideways glance. “Wot about you? You into that kinda thing?”

Anna tilted her head with a vague hum. It wasn’t an answer, but it said plenty.

“I don’t suppose you find the denthead attractive, too?” he pressed.

She cleared her throat and looked away.

Murdoc growled out some incomprehensible noises that she had no idea how to respond to before finally stuttering, “I-I-I-I can sing!”

Her face wiped into a skeptical deadpan, so he added, “Don’t give me that look! Give me a song! Any song! I’ll show ya.”

Anna seriously doubted his voice was anything that impressive. It had a nice raspy quality to it, sure, but how well would that transfer over to his singing?

She decided to indulge him and find out.

“How about ‘Ziggy Stardust’?” she suggested. Even if Murdoc _c_ _ouldn’t_ sing, at least his natural theatricality would make up for it. That was what she hoped anyway.

Murdoc snorted. “I’m more an Aladdin Sane kinda guy, y’know wot I mean?”

“No, you’re definitely Ziggy. You’ve got screwed up eyes and a screwed down hairdo,” she teased.

He gave his oil-colored hair a self-conscious pat for one hurt moment before he shook it off. “Well, I _am_ the nazz with a God-given arse,” he quipped back as he gratuitously swung his hips.

Anna hid her sputtering laugh behind her hand, shoving playfully at him with the other. “Sing the song already, Ziggy.”

Murdoc laughed a little under his breath. He held his hands up in mock surrender and said, “Awright, awright. You might wanna lean against something, babe, ‘cause I’m about to make you swoon.”

Anna crossed her arms and stared at him expectantly instead.

He took a deep breath, nodding his head to an imaginary beat, then:

“ _Ziggy played guitar. Jamming good with Weird and Gilly…._ ”

Murdoc hummed the few lyrics he had forgotten, impatient with himself, then continued, “ _He played it left hand. But took it too far…._ ”

A small smile crept up Anna’s face, and she tucked it behind a hand.

Was she blushing? It was hard to tell with her practically covering her face like that. Still, she seemed entertained enough. Her dark eyes sparkled when he mimed playing a bass along with his singing and swayed to the imaginary thrum coursing through him.

Murdoc threw a wink at her. “ _Became one so loaded, man! Oh!_ ”

Anna had managed to suppress the laughter bubbling in her chest from the first wrong lyric, but this second blow was too much. He was just so confident he sang it right that the mistake was almost endearing.

He glared at her as if she had just insulted his grandmother. “Wot the bloody hell’re you laughing for?” he snapped, waving his arm at her in exasperation. “It can’t be my lovely singing, surely.”

“It’s...It’s not your singing, dude,” she managed to say in between giggles. “You’re decent, actually. I’m surprised. It’s just...you got the lyrics wrong.”

Murdoc’s eyebrows shot up. “I…. Oh, eh? Did I?”

“Yeah. It’s ‘He played it left hand but made it too far. Became the special man’,” she said, half-singing, half-talking.

He nudged her elbow, impressed. “Hey, yer not bad yerself, love. Not nearly as good as me, y'know, but then again, no one is.”

They paused right outside the room with the plastic boob hanging near the entrance. He caught her grimacing at it and smirked.

“Wanna ring it?” he offered.

She snorted and averted her eyes. “No thanks.”

“Aw, c’mon. You’ll get a kick outta it.”

“We clearly do not share the same sense of humor.”

He shrugged. “Suit yerself. I’ll do it then.”

“Murdoc, no—”

He pushed the nipple of the thing right as she accidentally smacked his hand forward in an attempt to stop him. A delighted grin stretched across his face as the fake breast emitted a strangled female moan.

A startled warmth washed over Anna's face.

“Dude, _why?_ ” she groaned from behind a hand.

“You should see yer face,” he teased as he threw the door open. “Yer so red.”

 _Well,_ she thought as she looked all about the room,  _I_ _should fit right in then_.

The entire place was a garish candy red, as if someone had coated the walls with liquid cherry Starburst. Her only reprieve from the nightmarish tackiness was the few faded movie posters displayed in tall glass cases.

A short, bald man quivered in the ticket booth, just peeking over the counter to see who it was before ducking back out of sight.

She blinked. “Who’s that?”

Murdoc glanced over at the booth. “Oh, him? I dunno. I think he was one of the previous owners of Kong, but he was too scared to actually leave once the place fell to me. All those zombies ‘n ghosts, y’know? I call him Jerry.”

_Ghosts?_

He rapped on the glass as if the poor man were a fish. “Oi, Jerry! When’re you gonna pay yer rent, eh, mate?” he yelled. The man just cowered on the floor and threw his hands over his head.

“...How long has he been in there?”

Murdoc shrugged. “Like I said, I dunno. He must go out to eat sometimes or he’d be dead by now, surely. I sure as hell don’t feed ‘m.”

He walked off without another thought to the man, but Anna stayed where she was. Her hand hovered near the booth, unsure for a moment, before she gave the glass a gentle tap. “Um, I’m sorry, Jerry, or whatever your real name is," she said, trying her best to smile. "It’s all clear now. You can go home.”

The man curled further in on himself.

“'s no use,” Murdoc cut in. “You think we haven’t tried coaxing that sod outta his lil’ box? He’s gone right mental, that one. Unless something manages to scare him out of there, he ain’t moving. And believe me, I’ve tried my damnedest.”

Anna deadpanned. “Maybe he’s just scared of you.”

He tilted his head, as if he hadn’t considered that. “Yeah, that'd make sense, wouldn’t it?”

He shook the thought away and waved for her to follow him again. “Anyway, he’s not important. We got us a movie to watch, yeah?”

She spared one last pitying glance at the man in the booth before jogging after Murdoc.

“Can you make popcorn?” she asked, clasping her hands behind her back as she slowed beside him.

“Oh, uh, yeah, we got a machine in the projector room,” he replied as they rounded the corner.

Anna skidded to a stunned stop. She had figured the neon cinema sign outside was another joke like the stupid fake boob, but, as it turned out, Kong Studios held an actual movie theater in its depths. Other than a random patch of graffiti someone had sprayed on one of the pillars, the place was surprisingly pristine and classy. The elegant cream-colored walls offset the golden crown moldings and other carvings nicely. A deep red curtain held back by thick, golden ropes revealed an enormous screen that peered down at the seats gathered in front of it.

Murdoc ducked into a nearby booth where a great number of silver tins had been stacked precariously on the shelves. He had to stand on the tips of his toes to reach the one he wanted, and Anna watched him struggle with an amused smirk.

He frowned back at her after he managed to pull the right movie tin down. “Wot the hell do you look so smug for? I doubt you could even _reach_ the shelves at your height.”

Anna bristled at this but said nothing.

“Or do you just get some sadistic pleasure in watching other people suffer?” he went on.

“No, just you,” she said, pushing herself off the doorframe to get to the popcorn machine shoved in the corner. “Go put the movie in.”

“Don’t tell me wot t’ do,” he grumbled right as he went to do just as she ordered. When she was sure he wasn’t looking, Anna allowed herself a small smile.

Witty banter was never a strong suit of hers, not with that awkward, fumbling mouth she had, but it just came out naturally around Murdoc. He was still eccentric, even downright unpredictable when he wasn’t actively being a terrible person, but all that was...entertaining, in a way. She supposed that was why she found it so easy to combat his snide remarks. He was already extremely strange, so anything _she_ did or said was relatively tame in comparison. No need to feel embarrassed if she wasn’t the embarrassing one.

That wasn’t to say she was going to drop her guard around him. He was too slimy for that. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy herself, either. She just had to find that happy medium between alert and relaxed.

A convenient stack of large popcorn buckets sat by the machine, so she picked one up and gathered as much popcorn as she could into it. In the time it took Anna to salt and butter the popcorn, Murdoc managed to properly wind the reel back to the beginning and turn off all the lights in the theater.

“This movie better be amazing, or I’m gonna get mad at you for wasting my time,” she said as she led them to two seats near the back. “I don’t want to make my aunt worry about me without good reason.”

Murdoc kicked the empty seat in front of him a few times before it gave in and bent forward for him to use as a footrest. “I’ll have you know I have _impeccable_ taste,” he scoffed. “You’ll love it, trust me.”

Anna moved the arm between their two seats up to let the popcorn bucket rest between them. Its presence would at least prevent him from brushing up against her legs. Lord knows he’d find some excuse to be a pervert while he was alone with her in this large, dark room.

Thankfully, though, Murdoc seemed too enraptured by the old trailers flashing across the screen to even think of doing such a thing. His mismatched eyes gleamed like a child at Christmas when the movie finally began.

Anna jumped when the famous theme song howled at her through the speakers. The composition thrummed so violently through her entire body that she vibrated in her seat, but she couldn’t deny that the energetic track set the mood perfectly.

There were a lot of tense, silent moments in the film where characters would do nothing more than stare each other down. Clint Eastwood’s character, Blondie, the aforementioned “Good” guy of this movie, was especially badass. He was just so grizzled and slick that he looked cool no matter what he did. Even when he was forced to trek through the scorching desert at gunpoint by the “Ugly” character, Tuco, Blondie still exuded a calm and collected aura.

“Props to young Clint Eastwood,” she muttered during another quiet scene. “He’s gotta be the epitome of badassery.”

“Y’know,” Murdoc began, resting his arm on the back of her seat. “Some people say I look a lot like a younger Clint Eastwood. If yer inta that sort of rugged look, y’know?”

Anna snorted. “If you’re anyone from this movie, you’re Tuco.”

“‘n wot does that make you, eh?” he asked, throwing her a deadpan glance. “The big, ‘Bad’ Angel Eyes?”

“I mean, I’ve always wanted to punch you for harassing me, for one thing,” she replied, gesturing at the screen. One of Angel Eyes' henchmen throttled Tuco around to get him to reveal where a cache of gold was being hidden. The villain watched on with a subdued glee at the violence.

Murdoc grimaced when the henchman threw Tuco onto the table and dug his thumbs into the man’s eyes. “...Seems a bit excessive, don’t you think?” he mumbled. Her silence made him uneasy, so he removed his arm from behind her seat.

After a few minutes, he reached for the popcorn, only for his knuckles to brush against hers in the bucket. He met her startled glance with his own peeved one. It was hard to tell from the lighting, but Murdoc could have sworn she was blushing. She snatched her hand away, cradling it to her chest like he had burned her.

 _Wot the hell? I barely touched her,_ he thought, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. _Goddamn, she really_ is _sensitive…._

He tugged the bucket of popcorn to his lap, half to see if she’d be bold enough to grab more and half because he was pretty famished. That recording session took a lot out of him, especially with 2-D acting like some fussy teenager. He supposed he should’ve expected that, though, given the lad was barely twenty. 2-D was still a child, really. Even more so than Noodle sometimes. It was enough to drive anyone mad.

Anna left him to finish off the rest of the popcorn. There was no way she’d make a grab for it with the bucket resting that close to his crotch. It was too obvious a ploy, and she refused to be suckered into it.

Still, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't having a good time. Murdoc's scattered comments throughout the movie made her laugh, and he seemed to appreciate her attempts to talk about the soundtrack in the background. Of course, with much of the movie's score being comprised of its iconic theme, there really wasn't much to say. He didn't seem to mind, though, because he would delve into details about Morricone's composing style every now and then during the quiet parts.

FInally, the music swelled as Clint Eastwood rode away on his horse and the camera pulled back. She let out a satisfied sigh next to him as the end credits began to roll up on the screen.

“That _was_ a good movie,” she admitted, stretching her arms out. Her right shoulder popped and she slumped against her seat, weary after the movie-imposed stillness.

“Didn't I tell you I have good taste?” he scoffed as he got up from his seat. “Honestly, the way you treat me like I'm some sorta cultural neophyte is insulting, really.”

Anna snorted. “Yeah, yeah, old man. I get it. You're as cultured as they come.”

“Thirty-two is hardly _old_.” He squared his shoulders to shed the habitual slump they fell in when he walked. He wasn’t some decrepit codger, and he didn’t want to look the part either. It’d just be another thing she’d point out and taunt him about, the little tart.

Anna threw him a look. Eleven years on her, hm? She expected their age gap to be much wider, all things considered. It was still too wide a gap to bridge, but it wasn't as if she wanted to pursue anything with him anyway. A possibility of friendship hung between them—all their banter leading up to this point had made that very clear—but it was so tentative and blurred that it was best to let it remain just that. He would never settle for something that trivial, not with his incessant flirting and arrogance.

“It's old enough,” she retorted as she walked alongside him.

Murdoc frowned at her before pushing open the door to the projector room. “Yeah, well, I’m not kickin’ the bucket yet, if that's wot yer hoping for.”

The muffled noise of her shy laughter behind a hand made the corners of his mouth quirk up just a bit.

“Turn on the lights, will you?” he muttered as he bent over the projector.

A panel with several dials on it was set into the wall behind her. None of the dials were labeled, so she turned one experimentally to the right. The front lights in the theater flashed on, but the rest of the theater remained dark. She turned another and another until the whole place, even the little projector room, was bathed in a hazy yellow glow.

“Ooooh, that's better. Now I can actually see wot I'm doing,” he said as he popped the reel off the projector and placed it back in its tin.

“You sure it wasn't ‘cause you need glasses?” she joked.

He threw her a half-hearted glare. “Sod off.”

The shelves that housed the other movie tins sat just over her head. She stood on her tiptoes to try and read the labels, but couldn’t quite make any of them out.

Murdoc snorted when she jumped just to get a better look. “D'ya need a chair, love?” he teased.

Her answering pout only made him smirk down at her. “I can grab a few if ya really wanna see 'em,” he offered as he leaned on the projector next to her. The thing was bolted to the ground, so he didn't have to worry about it falling over.

“...Yeah, fine,” she grumbled in defeat.

Much to her surprise, Murdoc reached around her and grabbed one that rested on the far left. He had her effectively pressed her against the wall in that sudden movement. She wouldn't be able to duck away until he moved his arm.

A rush of heat colored her face. He had done this on purpose.

“Lessee now, this one's... _Dirty Harry_. Oh, that's another good Clint Eastwood flick,” he said as he pulled it down. “The soundtrack isn't as iconic as anything Morricone came up with, but it's awright.”

Her eyes remained stubbornly on his collarbone. If she dared tilt her head up even the slightest fraction, they’d practically be—

A dark smile pulled at his lips as he put the tin back.

“Something wrong?” he asked, placing his hands on either side of her head.

Anna clenched her jaw. All of this was wrong. She wanted to push him away, to slap that stupid, self-absorbed, frustratingly charming smirk off his face, to….

A rather enticing notion slipped through her defenses, one of Murdoc pressing her against the wall and capturing her as his own. It wasn’t hard to imagine, what with his mouth already so close to hers. An unusual feeling burned in the pit of her stomach and spread out to warm her whole being. He was an awful man, but damn it all if the way he looked at her from underneath his bangs wasn't attractive....

And he seemed to know it, too. That was the worst part.

She flinched when he bent to her eye-level. The dim lights flickering above crowned him in a dark halo that made the shadows dripping from his form that much more pronounced. His twilight eyes swallowed the little light that remained. Her hands hovered in between them, insecure in their place as a shield. It was futile. She was being pulled in as easily as the light hidden in the backs of his eyes.

A loop of gravity coiled around them, drawing them nearer and nearer until their breaths intermingled in uncertain, yearning sighs. He was leaning in for the kill, and her chest ached with inevitability.

As soon as her eyes fell to his mouth, he finally closed the gap and kissed her.

Anna’s hands fell to his chest. She knew she should push him away, knew what he wanted and what was coming next, and yet....

His tongue slid across her lower lip in one, deliciously slow moment. She gasped at the feeling. It was a mistake. He slid in her mouth and rolled his tongue around her own. Her tension dissolved in a matter of seconds. Anna let out a soft groan and found herself wrapping her arms around him without thinking. His hands brushed through her dark hair, skirted down her sides, paused right at her hips.

Anna shuddered at the feeling and pulled away, breathless. “M-Murdoc—”

He tasted her again, shifting the balance so that she was pressed back against the wall. His tongue against hers hit her like a wave of madness. It washed over her again and again, eroding her doubt, her sanity, until she let herself drown.

Murdoc broke away like a tide receding. She rushed forward, tried to capture that feeling again, but, much like the sea, he could not be tamed, could not be called unless of his own accord.

He grazed his teeth down her neck, and she tilted her head back with an ecstatic sigh. His breath was hot on her exposed flesh, his tongue more so. He bit down on the area where her neck met her shoulder and she arched against him, letting out a small gasp. This roughness was new to her, but dear Lord did it feel good.

She clung to his back, desperate for more, always more. And he obliged, pushing her jacket and the sleeves of her loose T-shirt down to get better access to her shoulders. Here, he planted his lips, softly at first, then with an urgent hunger that refused to be denied. Not that she wanted to. She couldn't think of it, couldn't...couldn't really think at all. There was only this scorching feeling of him, his lips, his _tongue_....

He slid his hands down to brush her sides, her hips, waist...lowering....

Anna's eyes snapped open when he roughly groped her ass. It broke the slow rhythm he had developed, and with it, whatever trance she had fallen under. Suddenly, his hands, his mouth on her, felt so utterly wrong that she all but shoved him away with trembling hands.

He stared at her in a daze, completely taken aback. “Hey, wot—”

She stomped off to the exit in the next second. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, ironic given the wetness on her mouth. And in other places....

“Wait! HEY!” His yells echoed in the empty theater, but Anna just slammed the door behind her without turning back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know what the chapter title is from, I don't know what to tell you, tbh.
> 
> "Ziggy Stardust" and "Aladdin Sane" are references to personas and albums David Bowie created. Murdoc is actually a pretty big Bowie fan, and you can hear him sing that bit of "Ziggy Stardust" I wrote in the chapter here: http://drdoofenshmirtz.tumblr.com/post/81819627761/murdoc-niccals-of-gorillaz-singing-ziggy-stardust
> 
> Yes, that is actually Murdoc singing. I pretty much reacted like Anna when I first heard this audio, lol.
> 
> The "screwed up eyes and screwed down hairdo" and "the nazz with God-given ass" lines Murdoc and Anna quote to each other are other lyrics from "Ziggy Stardust". Bonding over Bowie and movies...and other things~
> 
> Until next Friday, my dudes!


	9. Whole Lotta Love

****A terrible dread crashed over her as she tore through the hallway back to her car. It filled her mouth, her lungs, until every panicked breath scraped raw against her throat.

What was she doing? What the hell was she _doing?_

She threw the studio’s front doors open, digging her car keys from her purse with unsteady, shaking fingers. They clattered together like tiny silver bones.

Murdoc burst through the front doors after her, calling her name. She gave a startled cry and nearly dropped her keys.

“Wh-Why’d you leave?” he asked, still breathless. “I thought we were…. I mean….”

The light of the moon slanted over him like a spotlight. It served nothing more than to highlight her humiliation. His hair and shirt were ruffled in a shameful disarray from her earlier exploration of him. Despite the chill English air, Anna felt as if she were burning.

She whirled around, fumbled with the lock on her car.

“Look, I—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“If you would just—”

The car door slammed in his face. Murdoc caught his own startled reflection in the tinted window before her car backed away, nearly veering off the spire in her panic. Anna managed to right the car again and sped away in a mad rush.

Her lips still tingled when she hit the freeway. She tried to wipe the feeling away, but it lingered with a taunting perseverance. Stubborn, much like him.

She hated this, hated him, hated everything. How could she have let her guard down? What, just because he hadn’t acted on selfish impulse for a little over three hours, she felt she was safe?

No, that wasn’t it. She hadn’t let her guard down because she trusted him not to flirt with her. She didn’t trust him at all, really, but deep down—very, _very_ deep down—she was drawn to him all the same. It wasn’t until he pressed her against the wall that she finally let that truth sink in. An odd moment for a revelation, but it wasn’t as if she could dwell much on it with his mouth all over the damn place.

That day he had pulled her down to his Winnebago to talk about that first interview was the start of it all. The image of those heavy, mismatched eyes never left her. Neither had that slight brush of his calloused thumb against her lips, nor that time he discreetly nibbled her ear. All of it, every single time he looked her way or flirted with her, had been stored carefully in the back of her mind, in a primal space she never knew existed.

And now she would have another, much more sensual memory to keep.

Anna brushed a quick hand through her hair, hoping it at least looked windswept and not rumpled. The straightness of it all left little to the imagination, so if she came home with it all over the place rather than set in the usual way she let it hang above her shoulders, well…. She fixed the wrinkles on her shirt and jacket, wiped away the saliva still left on her neck. There could be no evidence this ever happened.

The lights were all off when she got back to her aunt’s house. Anna let out a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn’t have to fluster over some lame explanation of why she was out so late.

Usually, it would take her only a few minutes to get ready for bed, but tonight she moved purposefully slow. Methodical, even. She did everything she possibly could to avoid her roiling thoughts of Murdoc for as long as her scattered mind would allow.

It was useless.

When she finally curled under her sheets, the memory of what she did resurged at full force.

Anna ran her fingers over her lips. All things considered, he was a great kisser. He knew just the right way to draw her in, knew with a touch what she liked and what she didn’t. Not that there was much to dislike, really.

The warm bud nestled in the pit of her stomach that had been plaguing her the moment she broke away from him found its chance to bloom. A carnal haze crept over her mind. She bit her lip as she let her hand snake its way down, down to a place too intimate to name aloud. The slightest brush of fingertips against her slick heat sent a pleasurable shiver up her spine. Even now, she felt his lips on her, his tongue, the enticing way he caressed her body with his calloused hands. The memories tugged a small groan from her throat as she hungrily explored herself.

Her breath hitched when she stuck a hasty finger in. For one brief, insane moment, she wondered just how well Murdoc’s skilled musician fingers could play her, what sorts of notes he could elicit from her if only she let him.

An alarmed clarity overcame her at that moment, and she snatched her hand away.

Was she out of her damn mind? Doing _this_ to the thought of _him?_

Murdoc had made it very clear that he wanted nothing more than to take advantage of her. Sure, he had played nice for the moment, but that was all it was. A play, a facade, one big prelude to another, much more shameful second act.

Anna buried her warm face in her pillow in a frustrated attempt to shake off the lingering lust.

Needless to say, it didn’t work.

* * *

Anna was tense the whole day. Every phone ring made her jump, and she didn’t dare go out for lunch like she usually did in fear of running into Murdoc.

Unfortunately, her aunt seemed to notice.

“Hey, are all the longer days getting to you?” Nora asked. Anna was being oddly quiet for dinnertime, especially since she had gone out to explore the town last night.

“Huh? What?” Anna slurred.

Nora snickered. “I was thinking of hiring on some interns,” she said instead. “Our new readers want more content from us, so some fresh eyes should be a relief on everyone else, don’t you think?”

“Oh…. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

“Okay, I’ll put you in charge of them.”

Her tone was final.

Anna nearly dropped her fork. “Wait, you want me to what now?”

“You’ll be their boss,” her aunt replied.

She laughed at her niece’s appalled expression and added, “All you have to do is give them their assignments from me and make sure they’re not slacking off.”

Anna mulled this over for one distressed moment then gave a defeated sigh. “Okay…. I mean, we _do_ need the help. It doesn’t sound too hard.”

This, at least, was true. The three new interns were all around her age. Tom, the only male intern, was the easiest of the three to talk to, in her opinion. He cracked a lot of jokes, and his wide smiles and booming laughs were infectious. His genuine friendliness created such a relaxed work atmosphere that it put her more at ease than she had felt in some time.

Harry was the only one who didn’t seem to like him. He would brush off the intern’s jokes or return his smiles with deadpan glares. This didn’t bother Tom all that much, but Anna couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. Sure, Tom could be a bit clingy—he liked to throw his arm around someone’s shoulders when he talked to them—but he meant it in good fun and nothing more. She liked that Tom respected her boundaries after she told him how much it bothered her, and would only clap his hand on her shoulder when he felt it wouldn’t scare her.

 _Maybe Harry just doesn’t like being touched?_ she thought as she watched him shrug Tom’s arm away to get to his cubicle.

The other two kept to themselves most of the time, but they seemed nice enough. Emily, or Em, as she preferred to be called, was a music major at the local university, and helped run her school’s entertainment newsletter. Despite her large range of musical tastes, Em was only allowed to write on the mainstream bands and idols for her school, so she looked for other outlets to explore her more obscure interests. She was the quietest and shiest of the three interns, something Anna could relate to.

Amelia, on the other hand, was by far the most vocal of them all. Anna couldn’t help but feel intimidated every time she had to talk to her. Amelia had to be the definition of bombshell blonde, while she, on the other hand, looked more like a scruffy child. Still, Amelia always greeted her with a smile and listened intently whenever she spoke, so Anna supposed there was no need to feel as she did.

The three interns got along well with each other, and would often invite her and a few others to come along with them to a pub after work. Anna abstained the first few times, but eventually gave in when Em herself invited her. The two rarely exchanged words beyond work-related issues, so this came as a pleasant surprise.

As it turned out, though, they just wanted to ask her about her friendship with Gorillaz. Anna had to disprove some of the wilder stories the interns heard about how their first gig went—she had no idea where Amelia heard that 2-D lit himself on fire, for instance—but the others they didn’t believe, like the rumors about Whiffy Smiffy shooting at the ceiling and the stories about their guitarist being a little kid, were a bit more difficult to prove. It didn’t help that the interns had gotten absolutely shit-faced while she was explaining this to them either.

“Could you introduce us to ‘em sometime?” Amelia asked, her voice slurred through the beers she had been chugging.

Anna hunched her shoulders up. “Um...I don’t know….”

Em had been giggling throughout the whole conversation, but she managed to pause long enough to say, “Oh, please, Miss Santos?”

Tom nodded sleepily along. “Pleash?” he mumbled.

Anna shifted under their unfocused stares. “W-Well, er….”

The image of Murdoc smirking at her in the dark came to her then, and she blinked rapidly in a futile attempt to wipe it away. She cleared her throat and tried her best not to appear flustered. The interns were too out of it to notice.

“I haven’t been able to get ahold of them the past two weeks,” she blurted out. “I think it’s ‘cause they’re busy recording, so….”

The three deflated at the news, but understood and backed off.

Anna sank back against her chair. Of course that was the lie she chose to use.

She had managed to repress the memory of that awful, wonderful, burning night to the back of her mind, but now, several incessant reminders laid before her, threatening to crack that Pandora’s box open yet again. She supposed she was lucky none of the interns asked about the individual band members.

Her eyes fell to her cell phone. In the days following that hazy night, Murdoc had called her a few times at the office asking why she left in such a hurry. It only seemed to take hanging up on him a handful of times before he got the message.

Since then, she had lulled herself into a distorted sense of security. She knew she couldn’t avoid the truth forever, but if she put up the guise that she really had been too busy to visit lately, and thought Gorillaz to be busy in turn, then maybe she could force herself to swallow her own lies.

The very next day, Anna got a call from 2-D on her office phone.

She dropped what she was doing immediately. “Oh! 2-D! Hi!” she greeted, curling her hair behind an ear.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “ _Oh, good. You picked up."_

“Of course I did! What’s up, dude?”

“ _Righ’, well, I’m callin’ ‘cause, um, I was wonderin’ if you ‘ad time t’ come up t’ Kong la’er._ ”

Anna fidgeted in her seat. “Um...I….”

“' _C-Cause it’s been a while, y’know?"_  he added with a strange note of desperation. _“We miss you comin’ up ‘ere. Me, ‘n Noodle, ‘n Russ, that is._ ”

Guilt hooked through her chest. The three of them had done nothing wrong. What if they thought she was avoiding them?

“Sorry. I’ve just been really busy lately.”

The lie tasted sour on her tongue.

“I want to hang out with you guys,” she amended. “It’s just….”

She bit her lip. How was she going to break it to him that the only real reason she hadn’t gone up to hang out with them was because she didn’t want to run into Murdoc?

Anna decided to switch tactics. “How’re you feeling, by the way?”

“ _Huh?”_

“Last time I saw you, you were hacking up loogies all over the place. Are you okay now? You didn’t catch a cold, did you?”

“ _Oh, yeah, I did, but I got ova it. Fanks for askin’._ ”

“That’s good.” She spun her chair side-to-side absently. “How’s recording your first album coming along? Murdoc still being a hardass?”

“ _Like you wouldn’_ believe! _The man’s got no limits! I mean, one time, I was jus’ sittin’ in my room messin’ about wif my synths, ‘n ‘e jus’ bursts in like—_ ”

There was a small _whoosh_ noise at the other end and 2-D suddenly stopped talking.

Anna heard frantic mumbling, but couldn’t pick out what was being said.

“Hello?” she began uncertainly.

The phone crackled and 2-D shouted, “ _I_ _mean, it’s great! Recordin’s goin’ great, as usual! Nuffin’ wrong ‘ere!_ ”

Anna frowned. “Um...are you sure? What happened?”

“ _Wha’? Nuffin’! Nuffin’ ‘appened! I jus’...got distracted._ ”

“...Okay.”

“ _Anyway, Murdoc’s goin’ out la’er, so I figure today would be the best day t’ ‘ang out. If you’re not too busy, that is.”_

Anna perked up at this news. Finally, her luck seemed to be turning around.

“Sounds great! I’ll come after work,” she replied.

“. _..Okay. See ya then, I guess,_ ” he muttered, sounding oddly defeated.

“Bye! See you guys later!”

2-D hung up with a weary sigh. A low chuckle from the chair behind him twisted his face into a scowl.

“She believe you?” Murdoc asked as he tilted his chair back and forth on its back legs. His Cuban heels mucked up their new tablecloth with dirt, but he didn’t look as if he gave a damn. 2-D didn’t know how, but somehow Murdoc made himself look like an even bigger asshole just by flipping a toothpick around in his mouth.

“‘Course she does,” 2-D grumbled as he tromped over to the table. “She's my friend.”

“Mate, friends don't lie to each other.”

His scowl grew deeper as he eyed the paper bag Murdoc kept in his lap. “I wouldn' 'ave done it if you didn' take my pills, Murdoc.”

“Oh, so yer damn headache matters more t’ you than yer friends now, eh? You fucking pathetic, traitorous piece of garbage.”

2-D stared down at the floor, ashamed. He really did like Anna. She was nice to him, and she stood up against Murdoc on his behalf when she hardly even knew him. Russ told him that she even helped out during their last zombie attack and was  _still_ willing to be their friend. But his migraines were too excruciating to ignore. He was surprised he was even able to pretend he was fine the entire phone call. An especially painful wave overcame him then, and he clutched his head in his hands with a groan.

After sizing up the lanky boy across from him, Murdoc tossed him the bag like one would toss a chained dog a scrap of meat. “Oh, here,” he sighed. “Go get stoned, you drug-addicted halfwit.”

2-D scrambled to the floor and hugged the bag to his chest. After popping a few capsules dry, he snapped, “Get fucked, old man.” He darted for the exit in case this pissed the bastard off.

Instead, Murdoc just barked out a laugh. “That's the plan, mate,” he said as he spritzed some cheap cologne on himself. “That's the plan.”

* * *

Anna got to Kong at about eight. She had to decline yet another invitation from the interns, but at least she had a valid excuse to skip out this time. Besides, she’d much rather hang out with her friends than be interrogated about them by her coworkers. Nice as they all were, they could get a tad overwhelming at times.

One of the studio’s front doors was already open. A dull light flickered just through the crack, and she pushed it open further to peer inside.

“Hello?”

The lobby was lit by black candles someone left half-melted on the floor, filling the lower level with a sweet smoke that made her eyes itch. Was there a blackout up here or something?

“Hello? 2-D?” she called out again, but still no one answered.

 _Are they upstairs?_ she wondered as she ducked inside.

“That you, Anna?”

She froze. That voice. She had dreaded hearing his voice most. So by Murphy's Law or whatever stupid force controlling her luck, he, of course, had to be the one she was going to run into.

...Wait, wasn’t he supposed to be gone? What was he still doing here?

“Wait right there. I'll come fetch you.” His tinny voice echoed in the hallway that led to the recording booth.

Anna hesitated, just for a moment. What if 2-D sent Murdoc to meet her before he left? It wasn’t as if he knew she wanted to avoid the bastard bassist. Hell, no one but Murdoc would know, and it seemed like he hadn’t told the other band members about their little interlude in their cinema’s projector room or 2-D would have mentioned it earlier.

She shook her head. Whether the band sent him to get her or not, she wasn’t ready to face him or the consequences of that night just yet.

Anna turned to the door in the next second.

It was a second too late.

Murdoc waltzed in with a triumphant grin on his face, completely and unabashedly shirtless.

She gaped at him for a few stunned seconds before throwing open the door.

“Wait, wait, wait!” he cried out, rushing over to slam the door before she could escape. “D-Don’t...Don’t run off! I need t’ talk to you.”

Anna held her hands to her chest, startled. “Wh...Where’s the rest of the band?” she managed to squeak out.

Murdoc ran a quick hand through his hair. “Russ took Noodle out somewhere. Down to Tesco or McDonalds, probably. I dunno. And 2-D’s got another migraine. Poor sod.”

She tugged at the hem of her jacket. “But...2-D said the band wanted to hang out….”

“Well, we can hang out, can’t we?” he asked, feigning innocence. “I mean, I am part of the band, so it’d count, wouldn’t it?”

Anna glared down at his arm holding the door shut, her jaw set. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Her voice would tremble, or crack, or just sound plain unconvincing in her refusals, and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he affected her in any way.

Murdoc examined her silence intently, trying to figure out what angle was best to break it apart. She stood stock-still...for the most part. He caught her bite her lip just once. It was enough.

“After all,” he crooned, “we have some unfinished business, you 'n I.”

Her face hardened. “It’s over and done with,” she spat out. Anna edged away from him, just slightly so he wouldn’t notice. If she could manage to get to the other door, then maybe _—_

“You sure about that?” he asked as he dared a step towards her.

She stumbled backwards until she hit the wall behind her.

_Fuck._

Anna caught one last glance of the door before he placed his hands on either side of her head. The scent of faded cigarette smoke and cologne seemed imprinted into his very skin. It coiled around her, beckoning her forward to join the embers. She swallowed, hard, and glared at the anticross tattoo on his bicep. Her hands came up to his bare chest, pushing him away half-heartedly.

It wasn’t fair. She liked to imagine that, whenever she confronted him again, she would tell him off for his behavior, maybe even sneak in a few good punches to emphasize her message. Now here she was again, pressed up against a wall, her damn legs turned to jelly before him. Her face was ablaze, and his wicked grin did nothing to help matters.

She was in his hands and he hadn’t laid a single finger on her yet.

Murdoc chuckled under his breath, a raspy sound that tugged at her curiosity. “You got a boyfriend?” he asked, his voice alluring in how subdued it was.

She looked up at him. Another mistake. His half-lidded hellfire eyes swathed under the shadow of his fringe only made her feel even weaker in the knees. Her mouth worked, trying to spew out an excuse, any excuse, but all she got out was a strangled, “I….”

Murdoc held her chin up with a finger, brushing his thumb along her bottom lip in the same way he did in his Winnebago all those weeks ago. He traced all around her mouth slowly, as if he were trying to engrave its shape into his memory. It parted under the pressure, and she released a shaky breath as he started to lean in.

 _Oh, fuck it_.

“I don’t,” she whispered, her breath warm and longing against his lips.

“No?” He cupped her round face in his hands. “Then there’s no problem.”

Anna dug her nails into his shoulders. “You’re awful….”

Murdoc stared into her earth-colored eyes, watched them glaze over with a hint of desire. She was volcanic, the light of a hidden fire bubbling just below her surface.

His gaze fell to her smooth mouth. “The worst,” he agreed before plummeting forth into the flames.

This wasn’t at all like that kiss before. That first one was an exploration, a test of her limits. But now he had a better sense of what those limits were, and this time, he intended on finding ways to push past them.

His tongue slipped through to hers, rough and heavy and so damn skilled. He tasted surprisingly sweet, like honey-drenched fruit, only with a dizzying twist of alcohol mixed in. Could one get drunk off mere fumes? She couldn’t say, but the taste was dangerously addictive. Her arms snaked around him, tugging him forward to fill her hopeless needs. He obliged. He always did.

One of his hands moved to unzip her jacket. Anna shook it off without breaking away from him. There was no use for it, anyway. She was already burning.

His hands slid to her neck, down her sides, and up to brush her bare hips underneath her shirt. She moaned as his hands traveled further up her back, pausing just below her bra strap. His pointed nails claimed her as his. Only his.

A strand of saliva bound the two even after he broke away. His lips trailed from the corner of her mouth, past her jaw, down, down to her neck. Anna slowly tilted her head back as he landed kiss after fervent, feathery kiss along his way to her shoulders, sighing in her delirium. She scratched lightly up his scalp, a rough sign of encouragement that drew an appreciative groan from him. The sound resonated against her throat, sending a delicious shudder down her spine, tightening the warm knot in her belly.

When he bit into her, she yanked at his hair and dug her nails into his shoulder blade with a small gasp. He licked and pecked at the area, almost like an apology, before biting down on it again.

And so the fatal rhythm went, sending what little of her sanity she had left dancing away into obscurity. Each kiss, each lovely, little bite, was a damnation to a mindless greed that could not be satiated. This physicality was all she was, all she wanted, needed, breathed.

Her nails raked down his back and she nipped his shoulder, ravenous. Much to her muddled surprise, he suddenly hunched forward as if she had punched him in the gut. A strange heat pressed against her inner thigh as he let out a strained moan.

Anna muttered his name in a confused daze. Her hand trailed down his neck to tilt his head back up again.

Murdoc's eyes were unfocused, like a dark cloud settling over the sunset. “ _Fuck_ , Anna, yer better ‘n I thought…” he breathed.

She blinked up at him, uncomprehending, then leaned up to try and kiss him again. He smirked and was about to meet her when the door leading to the carpark suddenly swung open.

“ _Too-cheewa watashitachi to issho ni taberu ka?_ ” they heard Noodle’s voice ask.

“Not sure. His migraine seems really bad dis time. Doubt he even feels hungry,” Russel replied. There was a crinkle of what sounded like paper grocery bags shifting around.

Anna clapped both hands over her mouth to stifle her heavy breaths.

“Muds?” Russel said. “The hell you doin’, man? ‘n why the hell did you leave candles on the ground like dat? You try’na burn the studio down?”

 _No, no, no, they can’t find us like this!_ she thought, throwing a panicked look at Murdoc.

Murdoc stepped past her, running a hand through his hair. “Satanic ritual, mate,” he replied, sounding remarkably easygoing. “You two interrupted me, so now yer both cursed ‘til the end of yer days.”

Russel snorted. “Man, whatever. Me ‘n Noods‘re gonna go make dinna, so either help us wit’ all dis or get the hell outta the way.”

“Tell ya wot,” Murdoc said quickly. “How ‘bout I just take those bags off yer hands, ‘n you go downstairs and check on the dullard, eh?”

Noodle shook her head. “ _Too-cheeno atama ga itai yo! Kawaisouni….”_

“Yeah, ‘n ‘sides, I just know yo’ gonna do somethin’ weird wit’ all the food again.”

“Who, me? Never!” Murdoc’s voice rose at the lie.

“Muds, we only went out ‘n got groceries ‘cause I caught you in the kitchen throwin’ eggs 'n some bloody meat chunks in a circle of flour in the middle of the goddamn floor.”

“That was a Satanic ritual, too!”

“Uh-huh.” Russel didn’t sound the least bit convinced. “Now get outta the way before I drop dis on yo’ half-naked cracka ass.”

He was about to step forward when he noticed Noodle staring past Murdoc to the little alcove by the door. It was too dark for him to see much, so he asked, “Noods, what’s wrong?”

The little girl set aside the large grocery bag she was carrying and toddled off to the dark corner without replying. Murdoc stepped in front of her. “S-Say, why don’t you go ‘n set up the Nintendo thing upstairs, eh? I’ll play that one monster game you like so much with you!”

“ _Demo_ _Murdoc-san_ —”

“But nothing!” he yelled, much louder than necessary. “I’ll take care’a all that stuff you got, so go on, ya lil’ snot.”

She frowned up at him suspiciously. He put both hands on his hips, tapping his foot like he expected to be obeyed. Noodle then ducked around him to the corner, giggling all the way. Murdoc nearly tripped over himself trying to stop her.

“ _Noodle!_ ” he cried out.

Anna flinched when the little girl skidded to a stop next to her. Noodle blinked up at her, confused for a moment, then grinned an oblivious child’s grin.

“Anna-san!” she exclaimed and ran up to hug her.

Anna couldn’t return the hug. Not after what she had just done...what she allowed to happen.

It was over.

It was all over.

She watched in silent horror as Russel came up to them next, his face tight with restrained anger. Murdoc trailed after him, peering at her with an uncertain frown from over Russel’s massive shoulder.

Russel glared back at him, and the bassist flinched. Instead of breaking his nose for the ninth time, he just pushed the groceries in Murdoc’s arms and said, keeping his voice calm, “Muds, take dese to the kitchen.”

The tension in Murdoc’s shoulders melted away. “Right-o, Russ!” he replied in a cheerful warble.

Anna threw him a pleading look, but he just cruised past her as if she weren’t even there.

He was running away. What a coward.

“Noods, get dat otha bag and help Muds.”

Noodle glanced up at him with a puzzled frown but did as he asked anyway. She glanced between the two of them as she passed them again and shut the door behind her.

Anna scooped up her jacket and dusted it off. Her movements were deliberately slow, almost mechanical as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her shirt before shrugging her coat on. As she turned to the door, Russel called her name. He didn’t sound angry. Just disappointed. It hurt more than she thought it would.

She shut her eyes, counted to three, and reluctantly turned around again, still staring at the ground. “I know…” she said as she ran her hands through her ruffled hair. “I know what I did was stupid….”

Frustrated tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she sniffled impatiently.

Russel’s hard gaze relented somewhat. “Yeah...it was,” he said, his tone lighter.

Her stomach wrenched, and she wrapped her arms around herself before sinking to the floor. Her shallow breaths stung as she tried to unravel the painful knots. “ _God_ , what did I just do?” she choked out. Her black hair fell in front of her face as she bowed her head.

Russel knelt next to her. He didn’t rub her back, nor did he start interrogating her. Instead, he seemed to be waiting for her to sort through her panicked thoughts on her own. She was grateful for his quiet, steady presence, and, after a few minutes, she managed to slow her breathing.

He shifted on his crouched feet. “You okay now?” he asked.

She still felt sick to her stomach, but she managed a small nod. “Yeah…” she wheezed, taking another deep breath. “Sorry….”

He gave a short laugh under his breath. “Girl, why’re you apologizin’?”

Anna brushed her hair back with an impatient hand. “I don’t know….”

Russel reached an unsure hand out to her. When she didn’t move away, he gave her shoulder a short squeeze. “...You wanna tell me what happened?” His voice, the very air around him, was as gentle as a breeze.

Anna sniffled again and gave a weak laugh. “I don’t really know, actually…” she admitted. “One minute, I’m trying to leave, and the next, Murdoc’s got me pinned against a wall.”

At Russel’s scowl, she added, “I-It’s not like I didn’t want him to…. I….” She swallowed and her gaze fell to the floor. “I haven’t visited you guys the past few weeks because I…I let him kiss me after we watched _The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly_ together.”

He blinked. “Wait, when’d you do dat?”

“After you guys were done recording that one time. We were talking about the composer for the soundtrack of that movie, and I said I had never seen it, so he made me watch it with him.” She tilted her head. “...It was a good movie, I’ll give him that. But...after it was done, he….”

Anna trailed off uncomfortably.

“And I…” she tried again, but the words halted at the edge of her tongue. Her face grew warm at the memory of his mouth on hers and she slapped her hands to her face.

“Ugh, my aunt warned me to stay away from him, too. I’m so fucking stupid…” she groaned from behind her hands.

Russel tilted his head. “Yo’ aunt? How does she know him?”

“She had a friend who slept with him a bunch of times. He dumped her when she wanted to go exclusive and it threw her for a loop for a while.”

His face twisted in disgust. “Sounds like somethin’ he’d do…” he mused.

Anna nearly keeled over again. “Oh  _God_ ….”

He bristled, panicked, and added, “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. Yo’ okay now, girl. ‘s okay….”

She took a few deep breaths and uncurled herself a bit as he rubbed her back.

Russel looked her over. “Look, Muds’s got a demon mouth on him—”

When she whimpered at this, he amended, “Shit, wait, I meant dat he can be really persuasive when he wants t’ be. Hell, he _kidnapped_ me t’ be parta his band, and I wasn't down wit’ it ‘til he started smooth-talkin' ‘n playin' me some’a his demos. I can’t even rememba what the hell he said t’ me, but whateva it was, it was convincin’ enough to make me stay ‘n play drums fo’ 'm.”

Anna let out a small laugh at this, and Russel smiled. She leaned back against the wall and stared wistfully at the front door. “I wouldn’t have even come up if I knew what he was planning. But 2-D called me earlier and said you guys all wanted to hang out, so I—”

“Wait, ‘D called you up?” he asked, leaning toward her.

She felt a short jet of rage pass through her at the thought of him before it fizzled out. “Yeah…. Although, thinking about it now, Murdoc must’ve made him do it,” she sighed.

“Don’t make it okay, dough,” Russel grumbled. “I’ll knock some sense inna dat blue head’a his. Him ‘n Muds both.”

Anna shook her head. “No...it’s okay. I don’t blame 2-D.”

Russel looked her over once more then pushed himself to his feet with a grunt. He held out a hand to help her up. “Listen, don’t come up here ‘less I call you, a’ight?”

Anna brushed herself off and nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Russel. And, um, sorry again...for all this.”

“Naw, I’m jus’ glad me ‘n Noods came around when we did.”

Her gaze fell again. “Yeah...me too.” She fixed her jacket around her neck to hide the slowly purpling hickeys.

“Listen,” Russel began, “why don’t you have dinna wit’ me ‘n Noods? I make a mean veggie burger.”

Anna smiled brightly at him but shook her head. “Thanks, Russel. It sounds good, but...I think I just wanna go home. Maybe some other time.”

He nodded. “A’ight. Later, then.”

“Good night, Russ.”

He blinked at her, and Anna’s heart sank. Had she made a mistake? Was her use of his nickname undeserved?

His face melded into a pleased smile, and she almost sighed in relief.

“G’night, Anna.”

“See you around,” she said, turning to the door.

Russel held it open for her, and she gave him one last grateful, weary smile. He watched her car roll back down the hill and into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love". The song is...very blatantly sexual, much like I wanted this chapter to be, lol.
> 
> ...This is the first time I've publically published something this sinful. I mean, it's nothing compared to what I have planned later, but still. Please tell me if I need to put up the rating for this. Or if I need Jesus. Either one lmao.
> 
> Russel is honestly a really great character and a handsome man. I love him to bits. I wish Hewlett did more with him. Oh well. My city now.
> 
> Until next Friday, my dudes!


	10. I Play My Part, You Play Your Game

****Harry prided himself on two things: his attention to detail and his ability to read most people. The first earned him the prestigious job of editor at Sound Underground. Well, as prestigious as editors for underground music magazines could be, anyway. He pored over every minute detail of every article sent his way to the point where his coworkers deemed him an obsessed perfectionist. This second quality was useful for getting to know new people. Those he couldn’t read were either strange or crazy in some way he didn’t care to relate to.

Take the three new interns, for instance. Amelia he fancied he could read easily. She seemed the shallow type for sure, based on how she looked. Emily’s personality was splashed all over her clothes, torn up on purpose to parade around that disheveled look that was fashionable right now. She pinned buttons of her favorite bands and artists all over herself, and her bright blue hair suggested she liked more intense types of music than her timid nature let on.

And Tom….

He grimaced. Tom was friendly enough. Perhaps a little _too_ friendly towards the other men in the office for his liking. He hated how Tom would always throw his arm around him and act like they were the best of mates. It was like he wanted something from him, and it made his stomach churn to even think about what that something could be.

The whole lot of them were a hassle, really, but he did accept their invitations to go out drinking every now and then just to be polite. He had the image of the easygoing coworker to keep up, after all.

When Anna shuffled in that morning, he knew right away that something was wrong. He saw it in the weary slump to her shoulders, the dark bags under her small eyes. He greeted her in his usual way, but she only replied with an acknowledging hum.

His smile fell. Shy as she was, Anna would normally wish him a good morning before getting to work. Hardly responding at all was just plain rude.

Still, he supposed if something _had_ happened to her, her sour attitude was understandable.

Harry caught the occasional glimpse of her throughout the work day. Each and every time, she was either staring off into space or running slow fingers over her mouth before suddenly slamming a fist on her desk with a startling frustration. She was constantly shifting the collar of her dark turtleneck, too. As uncomfortable as she looked in it, though, she never took it off.

A small suspicion crawled into his mind. Had Murdoc slept with her already? Was that why she was acting this way?

Harry took a deep breath. Well then. It was time to make his move.

He wheeled his chair over to her cubicle, slapping on his friendliest smile. She looked even more exhausted up close. Her short, black hair stuck out everywhere, and her wrinkled clothes looked as if they had just been plucked out of her hamper and thrown on without much thought.

“H-Hey, Anna,” he said when she turned to him.

She smiled, just a little. “Oh...hey, Harry. What’s up?”

Harry leaned in and whispered, “Yer actin’ a wee bit odd today. Anythin’ wrong?”

Something flickered in her eyes, and the corner of her mouth twisted for a second before she smoothed it out with another smile, this one more strained than the first. “No, I’m fine,” she insisted.

As soon as she turned back to her work, he asked, “Are ya sure?”

The curious gleam in her dark brown eyes made his face grow a little warmer.

“Okay...something _is_ bothering me…” she admitted, punctuating her fatigue with a long sigh. Her gaze broke off to scan the rest of the office, just in case. “But keep it just between us, okay? Not even my aunt can know about this.”

A small thrill sprouted in his chest as he leaned even closer. “Aye, I won’ tell anyone.”

Anna covered her mouth with her hands, took a deep breath, then whispered, all in a rush, “I kissed this guy I shouldn’t have last night.”

Harry shifted in his seat. Kiss…. She had said kiss, right? Didn’t Murdoc mean to do more than just kiss her? Why had he settled for so little in the end?

He gave a small scoff under his breath. Well, whatever. Anna was fair game now as far as he was concerned.

“The thing is...I hate this guy. Like I absolutely _despise_ this guy. He’s sleazy, he smells gross, and he’s just...an absolutely terrible person in general. Anyone who’s ever had anything to do with him keeps reminding me that. And I _know_ how terrible he is, but I still….” Anna sighed through her fingers.

“Why’d you kiss ‘m then?” Harry asked, struggling to keep his voice neutral.

“I didn’t kiss him. _He_ kissed _me_ , but...what frustrates me is I didn’t wanna push him away either.” She bloomed red and looked over at the stack of papers on her desk. “It was a good kiss. Like _really_ good. And...I can't stop thinking about it. It's driving me crazy.”

Fear wormed into his chest, writhing painfully in his lungs until he struggled to keep his breathing steady.

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. She was supposed to feel upset, yes, but not because she couldn’t stop thinking about how good a kisser Murdoc was. At this rate, she might actually fall in love with the bastard.

Harry couldn’t allow that.

He managed a small smile through it all. “Well, wha’ d’ya say t’ grabbin’ lunch with me? Maybe it’ll take yer mind off it,” he offered.

“Thanks, Harry, but I fell behind on what I was supposed to do for today. I’m gonna use this break to catch up instead.” Anna gave him an apologetic smile. “Thanks for offering, though. And thanks for listening.”

“I’m always here if ya need anythin’!” His voice came out in a deflated wheeze and he rolled his chair away before she could ask him about it.

The fear knotted within him hardened into a bitter rage as soon as he got to his car.

He had made a deal with the Devil. It wasn’t just Anna he had signed away, but his own pride and his one real chance to be with her. If she acted this way over a mere kiss, who was to say she wouldn’t still pine after Murdoc after they slept together? Sex was one hell of a drug, after all.

Harry fumbled for his cell phone and flipped through his contacts until he landed on the one that read “Bastard”. His thumb slammed into the Call button with more force than was necessary. The poor key stayed jammed down for a moment like it was making sure the coast was clear before it tentatively popped back up with a soft  _click._

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in rhythmless irritation as he waited. Why wasn’t Murdoc picking up? It was urgent, dammit! He wouldn’t have bothered calling if it wasn’t, so why—

“ _Hey—”_

“Murdoc! You absolute fuckin’ bawnose, wha—”

“ _I can’t get to the phone right now,_ ” his voicemail continued lazily. “ _I’m either busy ‘r yer not worth my time. Bye._ ”

Not worth his time? _Not worth his time?!_

Harry called again and again until finally, on his sixth try, Murdoc snapped, “ _Wot the hell do_ you _want?_ ”

“Yer a right arse, y’know that?” Harry spat out.

“ _Yeah, but wot d’you_ want?” Murdoc repeated, sounding impatient.

So Harry told him everything, right down to Anna’s mannerisms describing her embarrassed fascination with him. Their little promise didn’t extend to the person she kissed, right? Murdoc must have had some idea how she felt about it, being there and all.

Murdoc’s startled cackling cut him off. “ _She...She said all that?_ ”

“I wouldn’a called you if she didn’,” Harry snapped.

Murdoc let out a contemplative hum. “ _She was quite good, too,"_  he confessed. _“Scratched up my back rrrreal nice. It turned me right on. Yeah, I was gonna have her then ‘n there, but we got, er, interrupted by a couple'a my bandmates. Really bad timing, that, y’know? She was really gettin’ into it._ ”

Harry’s face burned. “D’you…. Have you thought abou’ kissin’ 'er a lot lately?”

Murdoc was silent for a moment, then, “ _Wot’s wrong, mate? You jealous she's moaning for me 'stead’a you?_ ”

“We had a deal,” he stressed. “Yer supposed to use her, then I get t’ be there t’ pick up the pieces. That's wha’ you said.”

“ _And that's wot I'll do, mate. Calm down. It’s not like I think she’s particularly attractive. Cute, yeah, but not really my type, y’know? She's a prude, ‘n prudes’re boring. They're fun every now ‘n then to watch as they lose their minds over me, but eh._ _Gimme a loud girl over a quiet one anyday ‘s wot I say. Ah wa-ow-ow."_

Harry settled back against his seat. He hadn’t exactly calmed down, but it was a relief to know how little Murdoc thought of her. Still….

“ _Y’know if she’s a virgin?_ ” Murdoc suddenly asked.

Harry nearly choked on his own spit. “ _Wha—?!_ ”

“ _Actually, she_ definitely _is, now that I think about it. She's probably only had maybe a couple boys kiss ‘er who didn't know how to, y'know? Fucking amateurs. It's all in the tongue. You gotta know how t' roll it just right to get girls to make noise. 'n lemme tell you, mate, Anna makes some’a the most delightful lil’ noises.”_

Harry grunted in disgust. “Yer vile, y’are.”

“ _You best believe it, junior.”_

After a short pause, he added, _“Y'know, eh, if she gets a taste of me, she might not even learn to settle for you, vanilla pop. I'm all kinds of kinky, 'n you've prob’ly only had yer right hand to comfort you yer whole sorry life.”_

Harry threw his phone in the passenger seat, breathing heavily. Who did this self-important bastard think he was? Keith Richards?

Murdoc Niccals was a nobody. His band consisted of a bug-eyed freak, a foreign child, a fat Yank, and himself. Nothing to be proud of, really. And it’s not as if he was much of a looker either. He can’t have had that many girls sleep with him, what with that broken nose and skinny frame. At best, he was just a handful of girls’ regrettable, drunk lay for a night.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. There was no way he’d let Murdoc lay so much as a finger on Anna ever again. Why did he ever think he needed some perverted old man’s help anyway? He could just charm her his own way! There had to be a way….

He shook his head. For now, he’d focus on preventing her from seeing Murdoc again. Whether that was through asking her about her plans to hang out with Gorillaz and tagging along, or changing her plans entirely, he’d do whatever it took to protect her from being hurt.

It was the only vindication he had for making that insidious deal in the first place.

Harry glared at his phone spewing out its indifferent dial tone.

Breaking a deal with the Devil was dangerous, but it sure was a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a lyric from "You Give Love a Bad Name" by Bon Jovi. Richie Sambora, the lead guitarist for Bon Jovi, is one of Noodle's idols, so I figured this kinda counts.
> 
> Anyway, I know this is a really short chapter this time. I'm sorry. I've been really busy lately.
> 
> I can't believe we're already a quarter of the way through this fic, though! I'm kind of proud. I never usually write fics this fast, lol.
> 
> Until next Friday, my dudes!


	11. (Keep Feeling) Fascination

****The holiday season was a terrible time for making plans. Arranging a good day to meet up was near impossible for both Gorillaz and Anna, but at least she was able to talk to them on the phone. Russel choppily translated for Noodle and 2-D, on the occasions when he was high on his meds and slurring his words more than usual. She got a good idea of what they all wanted for Christmas from their sparse conversations and spent her breaks scouring nearby shops for their presents.

Murdoc never spoke to her once during any of these calls, not that she bothered to ask how he was doing.

It was only about a week or so after the new year started when Russel and Anna finally worked out a day for them to exchange gifts. After the busy holiday season came to a close, the staff at Sound Underground found that they had considerably shorter work days. Of course, with the extra help from the interns and their readership declining a little due to the lack of Gorillaz content, it was a relief on most everyone in the office.

Anna was the only one devastated by this loss. She threw herself into her work in the hopes of regaining favor with these new readers, but with little success.

Still, she did appreciate that she was able to get to Kong well before five p.m. that day.

2-D answered the door with an excited smile. Noodle peeked around his long legs, her eyes gleaming when she spotted the large bag Anna held. As the two adults started to catch up with each other in the doorway, Noodle reached around him and snatched the bag from Anna’s hand.

The corner of it hit 2-D in the knee as she darted away and he let out a pained yelp.

“‘ey! That’s no’ nice, Noodle! You don’ even know if that’s for you!” he scolded as he made his way to the front desk that she dove under for cover.

Noodle stuck her tongue out at him and pointed at each individual katakana written on the card attached to the bag. “ _Nuu-do-ru!_ ”

He scratched his head. “Those scribbles really say that?”

She bonked his head with her little fist and turned back to the present she had stuffed in the corner behind her.

“Ow! _Noodle!_ ”

Anna hid her laugh behind a hand as she knelt next to him. “That’s katakana. It’s, er, one of the Japanese alphabets.”

“ _Ooooh!_ ” 2-D nodded in understanding. “I always thought that was a kinda sword or somefink.”

“ _Too-chee…_ ” Noodle sighed. “ _Katana desu_.”

“Wai’, wha’?”

Anna shook her head, smiling. "Where’s Russ?”

He jerked his chin toward the farthest door. “‘e’s in the lounge.”

“And...Murdoc?” she muttered, pretending to inspect some dirt on the floor.

“Down in ‘is Winnebago. ‘e’s got someone wif ‘im.”

“Oh, ew.” Anna stood back up again and brushed at her clothes as if to wipe the thought away.

2-D waved his arms, frantic. “No, no’ like that! They’re jus’ talkin’...I fink.”

She pursed her lips as if she doubted it, but held out a hand to help him up all the same. After a moment of fumbling his unsure fingers together, he decided to take it and pull himself up.

Noodle crawled out from under the desk, still clutching the present in one arm.

“You can open that when we get to Russ, okay?” Anna offered as she helped the little girl to her feet again.

“ _Hai!_ ”

And with that, little Noodle rushed off without a second thought to them. 2-D just sighed wearily next to her.

Anna’s eyes gleamed as she turned back to him. “Got you guys presents, too,” she said, swinging a much smaller bag around for emphasis.

For some reason, he looked taken aback. “Oh...fanks, Anna.”

“Sure, no problem.”

As soon as she started to head off to the lounge, he said, “Wai’....”

2-D fumbled with his fingers when she turned around again. It was hard to tell, but from the slight dip of his head, he might’ve been looking down. She leaned closer to him and peered up into his black-hole eyes curiously.

He hunched his shoulders up as if he hoped to hide inside his T-shirt. “I...I’m really sorry, Anna,” he mumbled, his ears burning red.

She blinked. “What for?”

“Er...for callin’ you last monf ‘n trickin’ you ‘n all. I shouldn’a done it, ‘specially since you’re my friend.” He looked so small admitting all this, ironic considering he was a whole foot taller than her.

“2-D, it’s okay.” Her grip on his shoulder was firm and reassuring. “I know Murdoc made you do it.”

He leaned his cheek on the back of her hand for one selfish moment before shrugging it away. “Bu’ it’s no’ okay, fough….”

“Yeah, well….”

Her sudden silence made him feel even worse. He knew what he did was wrong, knew what Murdoc was planning to do, but he let it happen anyway. He felt gross. He was exactly what Murdoc said he was: a drug-addicted half-wit that would sooner sell out his friends than deal with a little pain. Anna should've been madder than she was. Maybe she was just good at hiding it.

He saw her shake her head, as if to deny the depressing thoughts crossing his mind.

“Murdoc’s enough of a bastard to try the same trick more than once, right?” Anna began.

“Well, one of Murdoc’s philosophies is ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t botha fixin’ it’.” 2-D gave a sagely nod, as if it was the wisest thing he had ever heard.

Anna raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by such shoddy, borrowed wisdom. “Anyway,” she continued, “what if we have a word to say? You know, in case he makes you call me up again.”

“Like a safe word?”

“Wha—? _Dude!_ No, I mean….” Her cheeks bloomed pink. “I mean, I’d call it a _code_ word but that works, too, I guess.”

“Oh, righ’.”

“Anyway, if Murdoc ever makes you call me up again, just mention—”

“Curly fries?” he suggested.

Her startled laughter echoed in the lobby, and she quickly clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle it. “S-Sure, curly fries works. But why that?”

“I dunno. It’s jus’ the first fing that popped in my ‘ead. I’m kinda 'ungry, too, I guess.”

She snorted as she hefted the bag up once more. “C’mon. Let’s head over to the lounge.”

2-D started to follow after her when she suddenly paused after just a few steps. He had to flail to stop himself from walking right into her.

“...Anna? Wha’s wrong?”

Without any warning, Anna whirled and punched his shoulder.

Though it didn’t hurt, he reeled back all the same. “Wha’ was tha’ fo’?” he asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Just...don’t lie to me anymore...okay?” she whispered, looking away.

He rubbed the spot where she had punched him. “Yeah...okay.”

She rose her pinky. “You promise?”

The action seemed more and more childish the longer he stared at it, but, much to her relief, he eventually wrapped his long pinky around her own.

“I promise,” he said, giving her a slanted grin. He was missing his two front teeth and a few others were crooked, but it was an endearing smile nonetheless. For all the edgy, punk-like vibes that he put into his looks, 2-D could be incredibly cute when he wanted to be. Her face grew a little warmer and she smiled at the ground.

Her pinky soon slipped out of his. “Yeah, well, let’s get going. Russ and Noodle might be wondering what’s taking us so long.”

“Righ’!” He pried the bag open with a curious finger. “Wha’ did you get me anyway?”

“Hey!” She turned to hide it from him. “Dude, you gotta wait.”

“Aw, c’mon, Anna!”

Her smile remained tucked behind her hand as the two headed off to the lounge.

* * *

“So...wot is it you want again?” Murdoc asked, swiveling back to the couch. A little rum sloshed onto his hand, so he paused to slurp it up. This shit was bloody expensive. No way he was about to waste a single drop of the stuff.

Harry squirmed in his seat. He had overheard Anna planning to meet up with Gorillaz today, and so, in his panic, he called Murdoc to meet up somewhere.

He never expected that somewhere to be some dirty van in an underground carpark.

Murdoc practically collapsed in the spot farthest from him. If the boy was less entertaining than this bottle of rum—and there was a very good chance of that—he’d kick him out then and there. After chugging a few good gulps that made Harry's throat burn just watching him, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and snapped, “Well? I don’t have all fucking day.”

Harry bit back his irritation. “I wan’ t’know how y’got Anna t’ like you.”

Murdoc snorted. “I dunno if she _likes_ me. Being attracted to someone ‘n actually liking ‘em are two very different things.”

“ _Regardless_ ,” Harry cut in, trying to rein in his exasperation. “How...How d’you get women to….”

“T’ wot? Shag me?” Murdoc took a lazy swig of his rum. What a dull visit this turned out to be. If all he wanted was this kind of advice, he should’ve just picked up a men’s magazine or something.

Harry stared at the floor but nodded.

“Doesn’t take much. Usually buying ‘em a couple drinks ‘n a few well-timed compliments does the trick. But in Anna’s case, you just gotta amp up the charm.” Murdoc gave him a surly once-over. “Or in your case, pretend you have some.”

Harry’s scowl went ignored.

“She’s very guarded, y’know? Could be she’s shy, ‘r could be she’s got some emotional baggage I’m not very interested in unpacking. Doesn’t matter. You just have to make her feel safe ‘n that’s when you strike.”

“Seems a bit underhanded….”

“Mate, cheating’s underhanded. Making secret deals with yours truly is underhanded.”

At this, Harry blushed.

“But flirting?” Murdoc continued. “There’s no harm in it, ‘specially if it works.”

He grunted as he shifted on his lumpy couch. “Now, is that all?”

Harry tilted his head away. “W-Well, I just—”

“Because that was a complete waste of my time,” Murdoc cut in again. “Anna’s supposed to be up there right now, ‘n I’m rather in the mood for bothering her.”

Harry threw his hands toward him and yelled, “Wai’! I have another question!”

Murdoc lolled his head back wearily. “Oh, Christ, wot is it now?”

“ _It was a good kiss,_ ” Anna’s voice echoed in his head. _“Like_ really _good. And...I can't stop thinking about it. It's driving me crazy._ ”

“How exactly did you kiss Anna?”

Murdoc threw him an exasperated look over his rum. “I thought I told you I tongued her.”

“Aye, y’did….” Harry pulled at his collar. The air around him suddenly felt very warm. “But how d'you... _give_ a French kiss?”

Murdoc raised an eyebrow. “You don’t wanna tongue her on the first date, mate.”

“Wha—But that’s wha’ you did!” Harry spluttered, indignant.

“First off, we never went on a date, mkay?” Murdoc’s mouth twisted in disgust. “'n secondly, when women see me, they know wot they’re getting. I’m tall, dark, ‘n a good time. A bit of tongue is the least to worry about coming from me. You, on the other hand? You’ve got that sappy nice guy look written all over you.”

“Wha’ d’ya mean?” Harry sat up straighter until he towered over Murdoc’s slumped form.

The bassist didn’t look the least bit intimidated and instead waved him away like he was a fly by his ear. “Like...the kind of guy who pulls their date’s chair out fer ‘em ‘n rescues puppies-type nice guy. That sickeningly sweet type I can’t stand. A nice boy like you tonguing a girl who just had her heart broken by me makes you come off as desperate ‘r like yer tryin’a copy me. She’d dump your sorry arse in the next minute. There’s a way to take advantage of grief, kid, 'n trust me, that ain’t it.”

“Jus’ tell me how t’ do it already,” he snapped. “For...future reference.”

Murdoc looked him up and down then shrugged. If he wanted to know that badly….

As he leaned closer, Harry’s gut wrenched. “Wha’...Wha’re you—”

Murdoc growled low in his throat and grabbed the back of his head. “Stop moving.”

“W-Wai’, I—”

Murdoc’s mouth found his. No matter how hard he pressed, however, Harry refused to relax. His lips remained clamped shut even when Murdoc ran his tongue over them in that slow, undeniably carnal way that really got his partners going. Anna had fallen for it, hadn’t she?

After recovering from the initial shock of the moment, Harry shoved him away, wiping at his mouth furiously. His chest heaved as a wave of nausea threatened to overcome him, and it took whatever was left of his dignity to push it all down again.

Murdoc threw him a bored look. “Yer a prude, too,” he sighed. “I hate prudes. At least Anna was willing to experiment.”

Harry’s blue eyes nearly popped out of his skull. The look might’ve been funny if Murdoc wasn’t already irritated with him. “Wha’...Wha’ the hell're you _doin'?_ Are you gay?” he sputtered.

“Bisexual, actually,” Murdoc corrected as he examined his nails. The red polish on his pinky was starting to chip away.

He glanced back at him and rolled his eyes. “Oh, c’mon. Didn’t I already say yer not my type?”

Harry’s voice came out in a strangled wheeze. “Bu’...I thought you were goin’ t’ explain how t' French kiss….”

“No matter how in-depth I get in describing how to do it, you still won’t be able to do it right. It’s easier to just show you how instead. French kisses are all about the _feel_ behind the method, not just the method itself,” Murdoc scoffed. “Practice makes perfect, yeah?”

A heated scowl flashed across Harry’s face, and he turned to spit on the carpet.

Murdoc’s eye twitched. So that was how it was going to be then?

“Fine,” he snapped, leaning back and taking a long swig of his rum. “If you don’t wanna know, then I won’t show you, ‘n you can go on kissing like the lil’ vanilla bitch you are.”

Harry set his jaw. Just the thought of that vile bastard so much as touching him again made his guts writhe in revulsion. It was just so utterly _wrong,_  so against all order in the world. And yet...if he hoped to even please Anna when it came time for it, then—

“The hell’re you still sittin’ around for? Get out of my van,” Murdoc growled.

Harry took a deep breath, his eyes watering at the mere thought of what he was about to do.

“Show me…” he mumbled. He spared a dismayed glance at Murdoc and almost reeled back at the sheer venom in his shadow-cloaked eyes. He looked as if he were about to spit fire. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

“Wot?”

“I said….” Harry nearly gagged on his pride. “Show me.”

Murdoc scowled. “You sure? You won’t flake out this time?”

“...I’ll try.” He sounded small and unsure, but the words were enough.

“Awright then. You better stay still, you fuckin' pussy,” he growled before leaning toward him once more.

* * *

“Bye, guys! Thanks again!” Anna called back from the doorway of the lounge. She tucked her VHS copy of _Princess Mononoke_ and Noodle’s crayon drawing of her and her team of Pokémon carefully in her purse.

“Bye bye!” Noodle yelled. She clutched two of the Powerpuff Girl figures that Anna got her in her hands.

Russel tipped his new pink cap to her. It had “Brooklyn” stitched onto it in fancy black cursive. “Bye. Thanks fo’ all dis stuff.”

2-D was too busy figuring out how to play his new blue ocarina to notice. He blew out several discordant notes and fumbled over where to place his fingers, grumbling to himself all the while. Russel had told her that he was really into that Zelda game lately, so the gift seemed perfect for him.

Anna kept her pepper spray close, just in case Murdoc decided to pop out from behind some corner. She wouldn’t put it past him to wait for her to be alone to bother her.

Much to her relief, she was able to make it to the lobby without even seeing him. As soon as she tucked her pepper spray away, however, the door leading to the carpark burst open. A very tall, very familiar figure nearly barreled into her, and she let out a startled scream.

“H-Harry?” she breathed out when he stopped in front of her. He looked paler than normal, almost sickly in the dim lighting. A thin sheet of sweat clung to his forehead.

“What're you—” she started to say before he clapped a hand over his mouth, gagging.

Alarmed, she stepped toward him. “Harry! Are you—”

He pushed past her and ran through the front doors.

“Wait! Harry!” Anna ran after him until she reached the edge of the spire.

Harry kept going.

Soon enough, his white sedan revved down the cemetery, past the front gates, and into the night. She winced when she heard his tires squeal as he slammed into the bottom of the hill and sped away.

“What the hell was that about?” she muttered to herself.

A chilly wind descended from above, and she pulled her jacket closer. She wouldn’t get the answers standing up here. She supposed she could just ask him what he was doing here the next time she saw him at work.

Anna hurried to her car, eager to duck out of the cold and get back home.

* * *

As soon as the door shut after Anna, Russel glanced down at the pack of cigarettes in his hand. _666 Lucky Lungs_ was stamped on the unopened box.

2-D finally paused his playing. “You wan’ me t’ give it to ‘m?” he asked, tilting his head.

Russel blew out a sigh. “Naw, man. I’ll do it.”

Noodle toddled up to them and placed her Bubbles figure in 2-D’s lap.

“Huh? Oh, are ya givin’ me fis, Noodle?” he asked, smiling down at her.

Russel chuckled. “I thank she wants you to play wit’ her, ‘D.”

She grinned up at him before rushing away with the other two Powerpuff Girls in her hands. 2-D laughed as he scooped up the figure she had left him and chased after her.

Russel watched them play for a little bit before he reluctantly shrugged himself off the couch. Talking to Murdoc was never pleasant, even when he was in a good mood. He was way too eccentric, and, as odd as it was to say, it was more than a man possessed by the spirits of his dead friends could handle sometimes.

He couldn’t understand why Anna even bothered to buy Murdoc a gift in the first place. Sure it was something as cheap as cigarettes, but it was still a gift, and his favorite brand, too. Hadn’t he harassed her endlessly since they met? He even got 2-D involved in his dirty schemes. At least 2-D had the decency to apologize for his part in it, but Murdoc acted as if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

He shook his head. That messed-up bastard didn’t deserve a Christmas present. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to get him one, and Murdoc didn’t seem to expect anything from the drummer, either. 2-D, of course, still got him something—Murdoc Niccals was certainly not deserving of a fancy wristwatch—and Noodle drew a picture of him as Santa, which seemed to confuse him, but at least he didn’t toss it out. Instead, he chose to hang it on the fridge like some proud dad.

As if. He’d seen the stacks of child support bills Murdoc refused to pay lying around.

He paused outside the Winnebago, grumbling to himself. He _really_ didn’t want to give this to him, but if 2-D was the one to give it instead, he’d likely forget to tell Murdoc it was a gift from Anna, and the whole venture would be pointless.

Turning over the box in his hand like a stress ball calmed him down somewhat. He couldn’t throw this away, not after Anna spent money on it. 2-D wouldn’t take them if they were supposed to be Murdoc’s, and Russel didn’t smoke cigarettes. Cigars were more his thing, and even then, only on rare occasions.

Russel heaved a heavy sigh. He had no choice.

He gave Murdoc’s door a hard rap. Much to his surprise, the bassist threw open the door and shouted, “Wot the hell d’you still—”

When he saw it was a wide-eyed Russel, he trailed off with a startled grunt. “O-Oh…’s you. Wot d’you want?” he asked, much calmer this time.

“Who the hell did you thank I was?” Russel snapped.

“Huh? Oh...no one. Jus’ someone I kicked out earlier.” Murdoc leaned unsteadily on the doorframe.

“The hell? You drunk already, man?”

“Tipsy, mate. Big….” He hiccuped. “Big difference.”

Russel gave him a disgusted once-over. “Right. Anyway, you sure as hell don’t deserve dis, but here.” He offered the box to him.

“Wha’s...Wha’sit?” Murdoc slurred, squinting down at it.

Russel huffed, “Anna bought you a Christmas gift.”

Murdoc’s glazed eyes lit up. “Oh, she did? Wot a dear!” He snatched the box from Russel’s open palm and put the box close to his face.

His grin grew when he finally figured out what it was. “Oh, she _is_ a dear! An absolute darling, that girl. She bought me my favorite brand ‘n everything!”

Russel frowned. “Man, you know she’s way too nice fo’ you, right?”

“Wot?”

The genuine confusion on Murdoc’s face made Russel sigh. “I mean, she got you dat even dough you’ve done nothin’ but harass her. The fact dat she even got you some’n’ _at all_ means she might’ve fo’given you for yo’ shit. And dat shit ain’t somethin’ someone can fo’give dat easy.”

Murdoc looked at the box again. After a few moments, he slurred, “Y’think she likes me?”

Russel blinked. “What? Hell no! I neva said dat! What I meant was—”

“I know wot you meant, mate.” Murdoc waved him away. “I’m jus’...tryin’a read between the lines, is all.”

“There ain’t nothin’ there, man. Quit lookin’ so hard.”

Murdoc nodded, but Russel could tell he wasn’t really listening.

“Look, just stop harassin’ her, a’ight? She’s our friend now. Well, me ‘n ‘D ‘n Noods’s friend, at least. So if you even thank about hurtin’ 'er, I’ll break yo’ wonky nose anotha five times, ya dig?” He raised his fist as a warning.

Even when inebriated, Murdoc knew how to avoid a threat. He jolted back almost comically and said, “Oh, I most certainly dig, mate.” He brought the hand holding the cigarette box behind his back and crossed his fingers. “I promise you. I won’t bother her anymore.”

Russel looked him over again, dubious and weary. “Yeah, well, sober up a bit 'fore you come back up. _If_ you decide to come up, anyway.”

“Right, right, right,” Murdoc said, waving him away. He flipped the box over and over again in his hand. “Is she, ah, still here?”

At Russel’s answering scowl, he added, “J-J-Just curious, mate. I’m still gonna be down here smoking away. I mean, that bird hates the smell of smoke, so it’d be useless.”

“Yo’ bein’ awfully considerate.”

“Aren’t I, though?” Murdoc crooned.

Russel snorted. “Yeah, well, she just left.”

“Oh, really? That’s a shame. I would’ve at least gone up to thank her if she stuck around.”

Russel turned back to the door. “Whatever, man. I’m goin’ back up,” he grumbled.

Murdoc watched him leave with a mild, glazed interest. When the door shut behind him, his suddenly much more sober eyes fell to the box.

He almost wanted to toss it in the garbage, but that stupid girl had a way with timing. He had smoked his last box just earlier, and now he was starting to feel that familiar itch in the back of his throat again.

Russel was right. Anna had no reason to give him a present. What the big man didn’t seem to realize in that pointless lecture of his, though, was that this gift _did_ mean something more, whether she knew it herself or not.

Murdoc didn’t like it.

 _Still,_ he thought as he flipped open the box, _can’t let her kindness go to waste, now can I?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is The Human League's "Keep Feeling (Fascination)". These guys are one of 2-D's favorite '80s pop bands.
> 
> ...I have a bit of a confession to make. I might have fallen in love with 2-D while writing his parts of this chapter, lol. He's just so cute. Actually, I'm pretty sure I have a crush on all the dudes in Gorillaz. :/ I know this is supposed to be a Murdoc x OC fic, but like...they're all attractive. I'm sorry. Hewlett may not know how to handle his own characters sometimes, but damn does he draw some fine men (and women).
> 
> Until next Friday, my dudes!


	12. Sometimes

****Harry didn’t show up for work the next day. Apparently, he caught the stomach flu and would be out for the entire week.

Anna’s curiosity was left to fester as the days passed.

What was he even doing at Kong? Why had he run away the minute he saw her?

2-D _had_ said that Murdoc was down in his Winnebago talking to someone. Could that someone possibly be…?

She glanced over at Harry’s empty cubicle. Who else _could_ it be?

Anna called him several times throughout the week, but he never picked up. After her latest failed attempt to reach him, and after leaving a couple concerned voicemails, she stopped calling altogether. She wouldn’t appreciate it if someone was constantly calling her while she was sick either.

She and the interns picked up the slack his absence caused, and Anna found herself accepting their invitations to go to the nearby pubs more often. If they could prod her about Gorillaz, then she could prod them about what they knew about Harry.

Oddly enough, none of them seemed to know that much about him. He wasn’t a talkative drunk, it seemed, and the interns always got too shit-faced to remember much of what he told them anyway.

“Kinda keeps to himself, that one,” Tom said once. “Like you, only...moodier.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, leaning toward him.

“He’s not shy, though,” Em piped up. “Not like you, Miss Santos.”

Amelia blew a stream of smoke away from the table. “No. He may look like a nice bloke, but there’s somethin’...off about him, y’know? I think he thinks he’s better ‘n us. Reckon he’s from a well-to-do family but doesn’t want anythin’ to do with wotever they do.”

“A rich boy rebel,” Em muttered.

Amelia nodded at her. “Worst kind of rebel, in my opinion. They’re so used to gettin’ wot they want all the time that when they don’t get it, they throw a fit. Spoiled brats, the lot of ‘em.”

“Now, now, I’m sure he’s nice once you really get to know him,” Tom tried to reassure them.

Amelia threw Anna a conspiratorial smile. “ _Men_ ,” she said with a roll of her hazel eyes.

Anna laughed a little behind her hand. “Harry is pretty nice, though. He’s always inviting me out for coffee or lunch or something, even though I’m not the best conversationalist.”

The three of them exchanged knowing glances and quickly changed the subject. Anna had no idea what to make of that, but the matter was soon forgotten when they brought up movies they had all watched recently.

The more she tried to probe them about Harry, the more questions she ended up with. The consensus among the two women was that he was a bit of a creep, while Tom and Anna were firm in their belief in his kindness. Neither side seemed to be moved in their ideals, so it was best to just agree to disagree.

It seemed the only viable option was to either call Murdoc and ask him or to wait.

Anna pushed down her needling curiosity with a pained smile and waited.

Harry returned the following week.

He kept his head down when he passed her cubicle, grumbling an incoherent greeting at her only after she wished him a good morning. Her few attempts at small talk were met with clipped replies, so she just left him to his business. Maybe he wasn’t quite over his sickness yet.

She bought him a cup of coffee during her lunch break and left it on his desk for him for when he came back. She didn’t know what he liked, so she just got him what she usually bought for herself. Hopefully he liked it.

Harry didn’t seem to notice it when he returned. He just stared blankly at his reflection in his computer monitor like he was trying to recall what he was even doing there in the first place. He looked absolutely haggard. Unshaven stubble dotted his chin, his curled hair was matted with sweat, and his usually clean-pressed shirt was wrinkled. The screensaver bounced in front of his eyes, and he snapped back to himself.

He wiped at his chapped lips and got back to work. The motion brought back the tingling feeling in his mouth that had been plaguing him all last week yet again and he clenched his jaw.

Even thinking back to that moment sent an influx of bile up his throat. It felt like magma burning through him each and every time he forced himself to swallow it back. Difficult as it was to admit, he understood now what Anna meant when she said Murdoc was a good kisser. More than good, really. He was bloody fantastic at it. Harry wished she hadn’t undermined Murdoc’s performance. Good God, the way he had worked his mouth, that _tongue_ —

He downed the scathing drink Anna got him to wash out the vile taste threatening to come back, then almost spit that out, too.

What had she given him? It tasted of nothing but pure sugar and sweet cream.

He popped the top off. The coffee was a startling light beige. Just how much cream did she put in here? She might as well have stolen the whole bottle of half and half for all the coffee he could taste.

Harry grimaced and set it aside. He’d toss it when he was sure she wasn’t around to see it. Anna was trying, bless her, but something was seriously wrong with her taste buds if she thought this was even remotely acceptable.

Licking his upper lip to get rid of the evidence brought the unwanted memory of Murdoc back again.

_Harry hated how he had to hold himself back. In fact, he hated that he felt anything at all about this kiss. He couldn’t moan, couldn’t push back and give that bastard the satisfaction._

He’s no’ good. He’s no’ good. He’s no’—

_The crumbling mantra stopped as soon as he did. Murdoc pulled away, gave him one last bored once-over, then drank the rest of his rum in a few chugs. “There,” he said, clinical and absolute. “Now you got the basic idea, so fuck off already.”_

_Harry gaped at him. That was it? And how the hell was Murdoc so unaffected by it all anyway?_

_“Fine then, ya nonce,” Harry snapped as he scooped up his coat and slammed the door behind him. Revulsion and the pitifully undisguised lust between his legs swarmed him in a relentless blitz. He fought the urge to hurl on the floor. Of course, it would serve the bastard right if he did, but Harry would rather leave with at least a shred of his dignity intact._

_Anna just had to pop up in his worst moment. That innocent concern in her eyes was unbearable. He couldn’t let her see. She couldn’t ever know._

_So he skipped out on work. The longer he stayed home and ignored her calls, however, the more antsy he grew. He had nothing to distract him from his thoughts, his incessant, damned_ thoughts. _Murdoc Niccals sliced into his mind more and more with each passing second, and, with every passing day, it drove him further to the verge of insanity._

The decision to go back to work today was made without much thought. He could barely face Anna that morning. Though she didn't look at him with contempt now, he just knew she would be disgusted with him if she ever found out what he let himself do.

Or...maybe she'd be touched by all his efforts. The thought was very gratifying, and a small sigh rippled through him as he snuck a glance over at her cubicle.

Anna wasn't there. He scanned over the office, and was bewildered to find her talking to the interns. Her eyes sparkled as she chatted with them all, and they smiled and laughed along with her in turn. Since when was she close to them? They couldn't possibly know her as he did. They had only been here for, what, two months? That was hardly any time to form a proper friendship.

His gut wrenched when he remembered how easily she had made friends with Gorillaz, too. It wasn't fair. He had been so nice to her. He had indulged her shyness, her strange interests, her mumbling voice, all of it. So why had all these other people become friends with her before him? Why couldn't she smile or laugh like that for  _him?_

He scowled as he sorted through the papers on his desk.

It wasn't fair.

It just wasn't _fair._

* * *

February reared its candied, bleeding, capitalistic heart right into Anna’s face. She despised Valentine’s Day, not because she was single—though that certainly didn’t help—but because it made love seem like meaningless, trite garbage. She had a grudging admiration for whoever figured out how to turn such a complex emotion into a manufactured commodity because damn did that shit sell.

Talk of Valentine’s Day plans were scattered all over the office.

Amelia was going to spend time with her boyfriend watching their favorite movies at her place. “I like quiet nights in sometimes,” she had told Anna and the rest of the interns a few nights before. “Love is best done when you can take off all those masks you both put up 'n watch _Pretty Woman 'n_   _Die Hard_ in yer underwear. ‘sides, we all got work the next day, so no point bein’ fancy.”

Tom was more the romantic sort. He planned to treat his date to a nice restaurant. He was a tall, good-looking fellow Tom happened to meet while out on an assignment for another band, he had said, blushing all the while. Amelia slapped him on the back and laughed goodnaturedly at his excitement. “Yer adorable when yer flustered. Save some'a that fer him now, Tom,” she had joked.

Em and Anna offered the both of them encouraging smiles then congratulated each other on their own single statuses. “We won’t feel sorry for ourselves! No sir!” Em had shouted in a drunken stupor. Anna just laughed and offered her soda in a toast of solidarity.

On the Friday before the cursed Valentine’s Day weekend, Anna never considered anyone would come up to her with date plans. It only seemed a natural course. She had spent every Valentine's Day alone and unbothered, so why would this one be any different?

When Harry approached her desk, oddly nervous, she thought he was going to make his usual, polite small talk.

“Wha’ are yer plans fer Valentine’s Day?” he asked.

She offered him a short, slightly pained smile. “Oh, nothing, really. I’m just gonna stay home. Maybe play some games or watch movies or something.”

“Oh….” He shifted in his desk chair a little. “Y’know, I don’ have a Valentine either. Would you maybe wan' t’ spend the day with me?”

Anna gawked at him, utterly taken aback. Was he…?

Harry’s face became bright red. “I jus’ wan’ t’ hang out, y’know, as mates ‘n all. Nothin’ more.”

Her shoulders fell in relief, and he wanted to kick himself for his last minute cowardice. Still, the fact that she was relieved he wasn’t asking her out was a maddening prospect on its own.

Why was she relieved anyway? It wasn’t as if he were a predator like Murdoc. She should be grateful that he practically shielded her from him the day she went to visit Gorillaz last month.

His eye twitched. Then again, it was best she didn’t know why he was even at Kong to begin with. She had looked at him curiously from time to time when he first got back to work the week after, but she never asked him about it. Perhaps she got the sense that he didn't want to talk about it.

That made them even then.

“Okay. Do you want to maybe...watch a movie at my place? Er, it’s technically my aunt’s place, though, so I get it if you feel awkward going to your boss’s house,” she rambled.

Harry blinked. “Oh...uh...I don’ mind.”

Her eyes brightened. “Okay, cool. Um, do you mind if we watch an anime movie?"

He tilted his head. A _what_ movie?

"Pardon?" he asked instead. He was certain he had just misheard her.

"Er, the movie I have in mind is a little weird, but it also kinda reminds me of a fairy tale. Like...the Grimm kind? Would you be up for watching it?" Anna asked, nervously playing with her fingers.

He was too busy nodding and smiling to hear anything beyond “fairy tale”. “Sounds interestin’!" he said. "I’ll come over at seven then?”

“Sure!” Anna scribbled down her address and handed the slip to him with a small smile. The slight brush of her fingertips on his palm made his breath hitch.

“See you Sunday,” she said, quiet as usual.

He curled his fingers around the slip like it was a jewel. “See you Sunday!” he repeated in a chipper voice.

As it turned out, Anna could be wickedly, if unintentionally, deceptive when she wanted to be. When she had said that the movie reminded her of a fairy tale, he pictured skinny women in big dresses dancing away to their happily ever afters, not the shockingly violent trip that was _Princess Mononoke_. He expected Anna to scream or cower at all the monsters and men being torn up on-screen, but she seemed to actually revel in all its terrifying glory. She and her aunt, who had strategically placed herself in between the two of them, even laughed when one man got his head sliced off by an arrow.

It was extremely bizarre, to say the least. Anna could easily handle seeing all these horrible, gory things, but was too frightened to join a normal conversation? What was wrong with her?

Harry didn’t really understand what was going on most of the time. He knew cartoons to be, well, cartoonishly violent, but he had never seen anything quite like _this_. It was visceral and unapologetic and so utterly alien that he found himself disgusted more often than not. Apparently, this had been dubbed over from the original Japanese into English just recently, so he supposed the cultural divide was what explained all the oddness. Not that the English made it any easier to understand.

When the movie finally ended, he held back the urge to sigh in relief.

Finally.

Anna turned to him, her eyes sparkling. “What did you think?”

He felt like he had wasted over two hours of his life.

“Oh...yeah, it was...grand,” he said aloud, slapping on a false smile.

Anna brightened and started rambling about her favorite parts of the film. He barely had time to nod in puzzled agreement before she delved into the soundtrack and the quality of the animation and just a bunch of other background nonsense that he couldn’t understand a word of. This was just a movie. Just a cartoon. How could she possibly love something so meaningless this much?

Anna’s smile suddenly fell and she looked away. “Sorry…I’m talking too much,” she muttered, clasping her hands together.

He blinked. He hadn’t said anything to upset her. In fact, he hadn’t said anything at all.

Could she sense that his smile wasn’t genuine? No, it couldn’t be. This fake smile worked with most everyone.

“No, no! Go on, I’m listenin’," he insisted.

She offered him a pained smile. “You don’t have to pretend to like it for my sake. I mean, anime can be hard to get into.”

Harry had no idea what anime even was, but he didn’t want her to feel like he didn’t care. He cared about her a whole lot. He just didn’t care about...whatever the hell it was he just watched. Surely she had more normal interests he could relate to? Maybe he could ask her if she wrote poetry or something?

Her aunt Nora announced that it was time for dinner soon after. They ate some spicy chicken she had made before she ushered him out with a quick good night.

The door closed in his face before he had the chance to return the favor.

It put him off for the rest of the night. All of his attempts to try and get closer to Anna this evening had been thwarted or just plain didn’t work. He couldn’t pull the old accidental brush against her leg trick or fake yawn trick with her aunt in the way. Dinner was much too short to say more than a few jokes about the movie, and even then, none of those had landed. Anna liked it too much to bear a few jabs at it, it seemed.

Well, whatever. It wasn’t his problem if she couldn’t take a joke.

Nora watched Harry leave in a huff through the peephole. He looked like a disgruntled bird ruffling its feathers as he fixed his puffy coat.

“Geez, what a prick,” she muttered as she went to help Anna wash the dishes.

“He’s not a prick. He just...didn’t get it.” She turned back to the sink and busied herself with washing the utensils. “It’s not his fault. I should’ve just put on something else.”

Her aunt snorted as she put away the dishes she had just dried. “Yeah, well, he could’ve at least _tried_ to understand it. You didn’t sit next to him, so you didn’t see, but he wasn’t even really watching. He just kept glancing at his watch or around the room instead. When he _was_ watching, he just looked...uncomfortable.”

Anna paused her washing. “...Oh.”

Her aunt cast her a sympathetic look. “Honestly, it wasn’t even as weird as that other anime movie...er….” Nora snapped her fingers as she tried to recall the name.

“ _Akira?”_ Anna suggested.

Her aunt pointed at her. “That’s the one. That movie was something else.”

Anna laughed as she dried her hands on a nearby towel. “Yeah, that movie was a trip.”

Nora made a point of being very animated when talking about her favorite parts of the movie as they headed upstairs, if only to compensate for Harry's disappointing lack of retention.

Anna’s smile faded a little as she mulled over this once more.

“I wanted to pick a Studio Ghibli movie that wasn’t too childish. _Totoro, Kiki’s Delivery Service,_ and _Castle in the Sky_ are all good, but...I didn’t want to…. I mean, I didn’t mean to bore him. I thought….” She faltered, not knowing how to give her disappointment form.

“He’s a prick,” Nora repeated. “Don’t let it get to you too much."

Seeming to think of something else, she added, "Besides, if he really wanted to, he’d have paid more attention. The fact that he didn't tells me he didn't come over here just to watch a movie with you."

Anna squinted at her. “What do you mean?"

Her aunt threw her a look. Anna blinked, uncomprehending for a moment, before the realization at what she was getting at finally set in.

She felt as if her stomach dropped. “No, he doesn’t…. Harry doesn't—"

"He does."

Her self-deprecating laugh sounded more like a startled puff of air. "He can't. I mean, just look at me. I’m not cute or pretty or—”

“Stop that.” Her aunt’s gaze turned steely. “Don't tell yourself that. You _are_ cute. You _are_ pretty. Don't let yourself think otherwise."

Nora pinched her niece's cheek in that same playful way she had done ever since Anna was little. No matter how old her niece got, she'd still be a snotty little kid to her.

Anna smacked her hand away with a mock-pout. “ _Aunt Nora,_ ” she grumbled, struggling to hide her smile.

Nora caught it anyway.

She stepped away with a light sigh. “Sometimes cute people can catch the wrong person’s eye," she said as she headed off to the bathroom. "It’s not their fault. There're just a lot of creeps out there.”

Anna felt a small shiver run down her spine.

 _“Come off it. Yer cute enough to be in a magazine. Not all that surprising, really, considering you work for one,_ ” Murdoc had said to her once. That was the day he had first pinned her against the wall and latched that damnable mouth of his to her all-too-vulnerable lips.

A stubborn warmth lit across her face at the memory.

It wasn’t as if that was her first kiss. That honor, if it could even be called that, belonged to an ex-boyfriend who had no idea how to kiss at all. It was rushed and desperate and his teeth clacked against hers several times as he tried—and miserably failed—to create a good rhythm.

It was one of the biggest disappointments of her life.

But God, did Murdoc know what he was doing. She never imagined a kiss could turn into something so raw, that it could feel so incredibly _good_. There was simply no way she could even begin to describe how it made her feel. How it _still_ made her feel.

And yet, for all that, she knew it meant nothing to him. He had kissed dozens of women dozens of times, all in that same mind-numbing way, and every time, it meant nothing. He simply enjoyed the chase. Once he caught the prey he sought, he simply moved onto the next without so much as a thought towards the heartbroken trail he left behind.

Anna refused to become another one caught in that string.

She sighed as she went off to change into her pajamas.

There were a lot of creeps out there, she knew. And Murdoc Niccals just had to be the most despicable one of them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is My Bloody Valentine's "Sometimes". The song seemed fitting for Harry, especially because it has this almost menacing, continuous guitar riff over the quiet lyrics that makes it a bit unnerving.
> 
> I know you guys have been wanting Murdoc and Anna to interact more, and I hear you. This next chapter is looking to be a lot longer (and a lot fluffier) than I initially planned, so I hope you all can wait until then!
> 
> Until next Friday, my dudes!


	13. Can't Stand Your Loneliness

****Monday, unfortunately, was a slow work day. Harry talked to Anna every chance he got, which was more often than she would have liked. Now that her aunt had pointed it out, his crush _was_  pretty obvious. She saw how quick his eyes were to flick to her mouth when she spoke, how red his face became the longer he talked to her.

It was kind of sweet, she supposed, but she didn't feel it right to lead him on any further. Not that she ever meant to in the first place.

Anna brushed off his many attempts to talk to her throughout the day, hoping to at least let him down gently, but it seemed her previous indulgences in his chatting had invited him to bother her whenever he felt like it.

He had work, too, so why was he wasting that time talking to her? Did he just feel bad about how yesterday went or something?

Luckily, her office phone went off every so often, relieving her of having to entertain him for the time being.

This next call she found a particular blessing. Harry's constant interruptions were beginning to grate on her nerves.

“Hello, this is—”

“ _Anna, darling, I’ve missed you!”_

Anna took it back. She’d much rather listen to Harry's excessive rambling than talk to Murdoc for even a second.

Still, he did have a way with timing. At least now she would have something acceptable to direct her agitation towards.

“What do you want?” she snapped, unable and unwilling to keep the acid from her voice.

“ _Well, that was direct. No hello for yer ol’ pal Mudsy?_ ”

“We aren’t friends, Murdoc.”

“ _Right you are. I believe a better term is ‘friends with benefits’._ ”

Her face hardened. “Tell me what you want or I’m hanging up.”

“ _You’re quite touchy today,"_ he mused. “ _Wot, you get dumped yesterday ‘r something? Go on, tell me all about it."_

“Look, don’t put up a concerned charade with me, okay?” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just tell me what you want.”

“ _For the record, it’s not a charade. I’m just curious, is all. But if you don’t feel like talking about it, then consider me uninterested."_ He paused to take a few gulps of something—some kind of alcohol, no doubt. " _Wot I want, as you so shrewdly put it, is, ah, you. Your company, to be more precise._ ”

Anna was severely unimpressed. She should have expected something like this.

“I bet you’re calling up every woman you know in the hopes of getting laid tonight, right?”

“ _Hm? Oh, yeah, actually. Going through my contacts in alphabetical order. You're the second one I’ve called.”_

“What happened to the first? Turned you down?”

“ _In no time flat. Just picked up to say ‘No’ before hanging up again,_ ” Murdoc sighed.

She snorted despite herself. “Yeah, well, get used to it, Mudsy, ‘cause it’s gonna be a long night of loneliness for you.”

Before she could hang up, he wailed, “ _Aw, c’mon, Anna! I bet you didn’t even have a date 'r anything yesterday! W-W-Wot d’ya say you let me make up fer that today, eh? I can play the romantic type for one night, y'know.”_

Her fingertips drained of color as she squeezed her phone. “You think I can’t get dates on my own?” she snapped. “I actually had a great time yesterday with this really nice guy. And he's way cooler, way more considerate, and much better-looking than you could ever hope to be!”

She didn’t mean any of it. Harry wasn’t any of those things in the slightest, and his incessant mocking from yesterday still echoed in her mind besides. Not sharing interests was one very understandable thing, but straight-up bashing her for liking something he saw as childish was another. It didn’t help that he kept recommending her a bunch of other movies he thought were much better all throughout dinner last night either. It was as if he wanted her tastes to mirror his.

Indirect insults sprinkled with half-hearted comforts were so much worse to her than direct ones. As much as she hated Murdoc, she did appreciate how straightforward his intentions were. At least then she had something to tackle head-on.

“ _Wha—Who?”_

It was insulting how genuinely shocked he sounded.

“My love life is none of your business, Niccals,” Anna huffed and slammed her phone down before he had the chance to try and coerce her further.

Murdoc gaped at his phone as if the dial tone had smacked him upside the head.

Who could she have possibly—

He scowled just a second later.

Of course.

Scrolling through his contacts was always a tedious task considering how many numbers he had stashed in it. He passed by numbers of shady dealers of all kinds, a few honorably crooked acquaintances, and a hell of a lot of women until he landed on “Scottish Prick”.

Harry waited for the old, shuddering copy machine to spit out the papers he needed for tomorrow when his phone’s ringtone chimed from his pocket. He plucked it out, only to read “Bastard” on the small screen. An unusual curiosity preceded his normal prudence, and so, instead of ignoring it like he should have done, Harry flipped his phone on and answered.

“Hello—”

“ _Hey, we had a deal! I said I get to have her first, wanker.”_

Harry frowned. “Wha’ the hell are ya on abou’?”

“ _Y_ _ou shagged Anna last night, didn’t you?”_

His jaw dropped. _What_ did he just say?

“Wha—No, I never even touched her!” he insisted.

...Wait, what the hell did he have to be so defensive over? Anna wasn't Murdoc’s girlfriend. In fact, Harry was quite sure she was closer to being _his_ girlfriend, if anything.

“ _So you_ were _with her_ ,” Murdoc said, his voice an aggravated rumble.

“H-How did you—”

 _“Come to think of it, she’s still too damn shy around you to actually let something like that happen anyway. Shouldn’a bothered calling you.”_ He sounded so wearily sure of himself that Harry wanted to punch him right in that broken nose of his.

“Wai’, did she talk t' you abou’ me?”

Instead of answering his question, Murdoc asked, “ _So...wot’d you two do? Dinner date? Watch the sunset or some crap?”_

“N-No, we jus’ watched some strange movie—Look, why does it matter wha’ we did? ‘s not like you care,” Harry grumbled. He was struggling to find his footing in this conversation, what with Murdoc’s barrage of questions and irked musings.

“ _I don’t. I’m just making sure you know not t’ cross the line before it’s time. Crooked as I am, I tend t' stick to the deals I make. Can’t say the same fer you, unfortunately.”_

Harry’s face flushed with rage. “Yer callin’ _me_ untrustworthy?”

“ _Weeellll, it was more implied, really.”_

“Oh, that’s rich comin’ from a slimy bastard like you.”

“ _'n_ _that’s rich coming from the bloke who made a deal with me in the first place_ ,” Murdoc scoffed. “ _I never forced you, y’know. You could’ve said no 'n walked off with yer dignity intact.”_

There was a nonchalant shrug in his voice. _“'n hey, more power to you if you did. You might’ve actually stood a chance at winning her over if you were a genuinely nice guy. But you ‘n I both know that’s not the case now, innit? You only think yer a nice person, when really, you’re as much of a bastard as I am. Least I'm upfront about it. Anna seems to like that about me, whether she knows it or not.”_

The dial tone buzzed in his ear, and Murdoc clicked his tongue in unsurprised disappointment. He knew he was pushing the weak twat into a corner, but he couldn’t help it. Harry just made it all too easy.

At least Anna bit back. She may have looked like a timid creature, but when pressed against a wall—in more ways than one where Murdoc was concerned—she always fought back. If Harry thought she’d be an easy lover, he’d have another thing coming.

Murdoc still thought about the way she had used his skull switchblade and her music magazines as a shield against the undead from time to time. The whole incident was just so metal. Though he didn't like to admit it, her sudden punch to his jaw that very same day also impressed him. He always loved the kind of woman that could kick his ass. Contrary to many previous lovers’ beliefs, he was more a masochist than a sadist.

Even the way she tiptoed around his usual charms was enchantingly combative. He may have been the one to initiate, but Anna was always the one who took over. She steered the conversations whenever they talked, had set the pace those times they made out. He had been a tad overeager to take back control that first time, as evidenced by the way she freaked out and ran off on him, but, come the second time around, he was surprised by how much he enjoyed the slow build-up.

This easy pace wasn’t because of her inexperience. No, when it came right down to it, Anna was willing, oh-so-very willing, to learn how to pleasure him back. It didn’t take her long before she learned how to move her tongue around his just right, or to know that a bit of blurred pain turned him on. Turned her on, too, apparently, if her sweet moans whenever he bit into her neck were anything to go off of.

Murdoc Niccals was a rough lover and he prided himself in it. She could handle his lovebites and his primal scratching down her back, so why had he taken his time with her?

The most infuriating thing was she wasn’t even trying to take over the situation. And yet, for all his usual impatience, her warm sighs and light touches made him want to take it slow, if only to keep her there longer.

Satan, she was so _soft_ , so smooth and uncorrupted. Practically his for the taking, if he coerced her the right way. He could almost feel her against him, in him, whispering and caressing him with quiet encouragements as she rode him senseless. She would be on top, of course, after fighting for it.

Murdoc salivated at the thought of those heated, earth-colored eyes looking down on him, how furious and horny she’d be over how good he made her feel. He imagined her calling him names, calling him filthy, proclaiming how much she hated him in the same breath that she moaned for him.

He choked back a groan at the sudden strain in his jeans. Satan, he needed to get laid. Fantasies just weren’t going to cut it tonight. That primal ache needed to be satiated, and he didn’t care who it was he used.

He scrolled through his contacts again, all the while biting his lip.

_“Yeah, well, get used to it, Mudsy, ‘cause it’s gonna be a long night of loneliness for you.”_

That was where she was wrong. Loneliness was a problem for a more clear-headed him, and he’d be damned if he ever let himself sober up enough to feel that way.

The longer he burned through his contacts, the more impatient he became. He couldn’t stand to wait for someone to come to his stale Winnebago. He needed stimulation. The loud hum of conversation, bright lights, that familiar stench of booze and smoke and sweat that wasn’t his own for once. Something flashy and distracting and loud. Something that would readily agree to be on their knees for him for a couple hours.

He headed towards one of the few nice sports cars he had stolen and refurbished to his liking. They were all taken from various rich people around London who had practically given him the keys. Of course, the fact that they hardly paid any attention to who their valet driver was certainly helped.

Russel scolded him for it initially, but found he preferred it when Murdoc stayed in the garage most of the day instead of suffering through his griping and weird antics around the studio. Besides, Noodle seemed to enjoy helping him fix these cars up, too. She didn’t talk much when she handed him tools or spare parts, and he was certain she couldn’t understand him whenever he tried to explain what he was doing to her. Still, she would always grin or laugh when he did something she thought was funny, and knew how to occupy herself until he did need her help.

Quality bonding time, that. The rest of his bandmates could learn a thing or two from her.

The red sports car roared to life under him, ready for a heated night out. Sheer energy rumbled all around him as he pressed on the accelerator to hear that sweet engine snarl back at him.

Murdoc shot out of the garage doors as soon as they opened enough for him to escape. Inertia shoved him back in his seat, and he grinned wildly as the electric night air screamed at him through his open windows.

A mad laugh tore out of him as he hurtled through the motorway into oblivion. He had no idea where he was going, but he was having a hell of time getting there.

* * *

Anna watched with mild amusement as the interns and Harry grew drunker as the night went on. She had volunteered to be their designated driver for the night, and, Harry, apparently having overheard their plans, opted to tag along. She wanted to ask them all how to turn him down, but, well….

Harry’s arm suddenly fumbled its way over her shoulders mid-conversation, startling her so much that she nearly jumped out of her seat. His obliviously pleased grin made her all the more uneasy, and she shrunk away.

The interns all paused their chatting to throw him disapproving looks.

“Oi, wot’re you doin’ there?” Amelia asked. She may have looked calm, but Anna could see the disdain caught in her eyes.

“Wha’?” Harry said with a light shrug. “Nothin’, really. ‘n anyway, me ‘n Anna…. We’re good mates. Real good mates.”

He jostled her shoulder like he wanted her to agree, but she just grimaced.

“Can’t you see yer makin’ her uncomfortable?” Amelia said, waving at his spindly, possessive hand. Em huffed in agreement.

Harry just laughed. “If she didn’ like it, she would say so.”

"She doesn't have to say so for it to not be okay, mate," Tom added. "Y'know how shy Miss Santos is."

“H-Harry…” Anna finally piped up right before Harry could argue any further. “Let go...please."

He just squeezed her shoulder tighter. “Wha’? Speak up, lass. I can’t hear anythin’ yer sayin’.”

She shifted as far away from him as his grip would allow. Should she just tell him outright that she didn’t like him in the way he liked her or would this only aggravate him further? It seemed the more people tried to get him to stop, the more he didn’t want to listen. She knew that some people turned into outright assholes when they got drunk, but she never suspected Harry to be one of them.

Her eyes flickered to the entrance right when a very familiar figure strolled in.

Murdoc took a deep breath in. That all-too-wonderful stench of hazy, tired cigarette smoke that stuck to everything and a faint whiff of lingering weed greeted him like an old friend. The general hustle and bustle of the waiters flitting about the dinky pub to fill everyone’s cups, of customers strolling in and stumbling out created that comfortably claustrophobic atmosphere he had been craving.

This small appreciation was ruined when he looked over the place and spotted Anna’s brown eyes peering up at him from an enclosed, round booth.

He blinked. No, that couldn’t be her. His stupidly sober mind was just playing tricks on him, right?

He stared at the girl that looked like Anna.

The girl stared back.

No...that really was her.

_Fuck._

He was about to turn and leave when he noticed that desperate, clumsy nob Harry was there, too, red in the face and practically squishing Anna to him like she was a shiny toy the others at their booth were threatening to take away from him.

Murdoc scoffed as he made his way over to their table. If he got anything out of this night, it’d be the satisfaction of messing with the both of them for a few minutes.

The only other guy at their table blinked blearily up at him, confused, but the two women didn’t even spare him a glance. They were too busy glaring down the prick across from them.

“We’re alright for now, thanks,” Amelia said, waving him away.

Murdoc scowled. “Do I look like a waiter to you?”

Harry’s eyes bugged out of his skull when he looked up at him. Murdoc’s gaze flickered over to him for one irritated instant, but Harry held fast to Anna’s shoulder.

The little weasel was really trying to push his limits, wasn’t he?

“Murdoc?” Anna said. Her soft voice drew his eyes to her despite himself. “What’re you doing here?”

They were at a pub. Surely it must have been obvious.

“Murdoc?” the blonde woman repeated, squinting her unfocused eyes at him. “Are you Murdoc Niccals, the bass player for that new band, Gorillaz?”

The other two exchanged ecstatic glances, and he grinned. So all that publicity Anna’s magazine gave Gorillaz really was paying off.

“The one ‘n only,” he said, winking at them all.

The interns invited him to join them despite both Harry and Anna’s protests. He flashed the two of them an innocent smile as he sat right next to Anna. Neither of them returned it.

His eyes then fell to the hand on her shoulder. “Mate, you wanna think about loosening yer grip a bit? Yer gonna bruise the poor girl,” he said with a false sense of levity. In reality, he wanted to smack the twat for being, well, such a twat. How many times did he have to remind him of their stupid deal? Honestly. Besides, it was clear how much she hated his arm around her like that.

Harry looked as if he were about to spit back a snappy retort until everyone else at their table looked over at him, too. The last thing his foggy mind wanted was a scene, especially since the remaining sliver of his sobriety warned him against it. It didn’t help that Anna was frowning at him either.

Why was she looking at him like that? She didn’t seem to mind it before Murdoc came over, but now that the bastard was here….

His heart sank. Did this mean she…?

Murdoc snapped several times. “Hello? Earth to curly-cue. You thick in the head ‘r just piss drunk?” he asked, his smile looking a little more strained.

Harry let out a weak chuckle as he finally let her go. Anna tried not to sigh in relief, but Murdoc caught on all the same.

“So wot made you come 'round 'ere?” Amelia asked. “Thought you were busy recordin’ ‘r somethin’.”

“Oh, eh, I needed a lil’... _lil'_  break. Been wanting to see Anna again, actually. It’s been _such_ a long time, hasn’t it, darling?” he crooned, delighting in the peeved glance she shot him. His past two months had been filled with more booze-filled, raunchy nights than he cared to count, but for a prude like her, these months must have been very long indeed. Poor thing. He'd have to relieve her of her dry spell soon.

Anna's eye twitched, as if she could guess what he was thinking. She turned away, stubborn, as always, then plastered a friendly smile on her face. “A-Anyway, while he’s here, do you guys have anything you wanna ask him?”

There she went, steering the conversation however she pleased yet again. She redirected others' attention away from her like she was deathly afraid of it.

It seemed rather odd to him, but he couldn't dwell on it much after the interns introduced themselves and started slurring questions at him.

In all honesty, Murdoc found this all quite flattering. The blonde bird was especially easy on the eyes, but, as it turned out, she already had a boyfriend. Of course, this never stopped him before, but Amelia was too in love with this bloke to even think of cheating on him.

Tom was a rather attractive man himself, all big arms and big smiles, but he had a boyfriend, too. Murdoc couldn't deny he felt a tad bit jealous. It had taken him a long time to come to terms with his sexuality, and he still never flaunted it to the public. He aspired to be as unabashed by it as everything else he did, much like Bowie, but being bisexual in a conservative, misunderstanding world was a very dangerous thing. He'd been called a fag or beaten up countless times as a teenager for even looking at another boy the wrong way.

Only a handful of people even knew about it, and they were either in the closet themselves or so pathetic and stupid that they were of little consequence. Harry was very much the latter.

Em he didn't pay any mind, at least, in regards to flirting. Her chubby baby face and small eyes reminded him too much of Noodle.

Despite her initial wariness, Anna eventually became swept up in the conversation herself. She laughed at Murdoc's ridiculously over-the-top tales, teasing him every now and then with her own quips and jabs that sent the drunken interns into hysterics. Murdoc found himself genuinely smiling back more times than he'd care to admit.

Eventually, Anna felt bold enough to want to pick a song on the jukebox. The colorful hunk of outdated machinery sat in the back of the pub right by the bathrooms. A purple neon sign flickered just above it, casting the alcove in harsh fluorescence.

Murdoc moved out of the booth to let her step out then, after a moment's hesitation, decided to follow after her.

Anna flipped through the list, disinterested in most of the junky old pop songs decades out of date. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard him approach then smiled, just a little.

She had a lovely smile. Why she always chose to hide it was beyond him.

"Got any requests?" she asked.

He shrugged as he leaned in to look alongside her. She stiffened when their shoulders brushed against one another, but made no effort to move away. "Depends wot they got in there," he replied, looking equally as disinterested as she had been.

Anna stood stock-still, letting him take over scrolling through the songs. His leather jacket exuded frost, as if the dead hide had somehow absorbed all the winter chill from outside and now bled it through to her. Still...the cold felt nice against the heavy atmosphere of the pub, thick with coiling smoke and the humidity of too many bodies in the room. Normally, such a place would dredge up her anxiety, but with the interns distracting her from it and now with Murdoc being here....

Her eyes flickered to him for one fleeting moment before turning back to the jukebox.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"You just did," Murdoc mumbled, debating whether he should pick a Madonna song or something more expected of him.

She cast him an unamused look. "I'm serious."

He flipped past another song before glancing over at her. "Wot?"

Anna tugged at the bottom of her jacket. “What's the real reason you came here, Murdoc? Are you following me?”

He scoffed. “Don’t give yerself so much credit, love. I just went out fer a drink ‘n to find a lovely thing to warm my bed for the night ‘n who should I find but you?”

“So you just _happened_ to come to the same exact pub as me?”

Murdoc gave a theatrical shrug. “Maybe it’s fate.”

She snorted. "Yeah, right."

"Well, we never did finish wot we started at Kong," he said, leering over at her. "Maybe the universe is tryin'a give us a lil' push, eh?"

Anna shoved him away. "There's your push," she grumbled, hoping he couldn't see how much this reminder made her blush. They had been getting along so well until now. Why did he always have to ruin it?

"Aw, c'mon, you know you missed me, Anna."

She jammed the next button with more force than necessary.

It would be so easy to say she didn't. That she hated him, that he was an idiot for even thinking that, that there was simply no  _way_.

But it would be pointless. He'd find some way to loop the conversation back to the truth, make her reveal it, then hold this small, insignificant victory over her head until he started pushing boundaries again.

And, after being able to talk to him again, without all the tension of their former misdeeds hanging over them, she knew.

She did miss him. She missed his absurd stories, his outlandish behavior, his genuine laugh.

She missed the way he kissed her.

Anna took a deep breath. “Promise me something,” she said, her voice low and unsure.

Murdoc rose an eyebrow.

“Promise me you won't laugh when I tell you this." Her face grew warmer. "And...that you'll be honest with me."

A ripple of uncertainty shot through him. Anna had reached the end of the list without choosing anything.

He had a vague idea of what she wanted to say to him, and it wasn't at all something he wanted to hear. Affection was an emotion Murdoc lacked his entire life, not that he ever needed it to survive. Affection was clingy, suffocating, needy, and he hated being restrained...unless you counted in the bedroom. But even then, that restraint was self-inflicted, self-imposed.

Love was far worse. He couldn't even imagine how to deal with someone who actually, truly loved him. It was so much easier to deal with someone who hated him instead. At least then, he knew where they were coming from.

He could make up some excuse and head off to find some other slag to drink and sleep with, someone who wouldn't bother digging into his brain to see what made it tick.

 _Run_ , his instincts screamed at him. He was too damn sober for his own good.

Instead, Murdoc spewed out the one thing he knew would damn him.

"I promise."

Anna's dark eyes glittered in the sharp neon as she studied his face. His mouth was set into a tight, guarded line, but he seemed genuine enough. Her eyes fell again.

Murdoc leaned against the brick wall by the jukebox. "I promise...so long as you do the same fer me," he added.

There. At least now he would have something to gain from this stupid venture. How much or how little truth he would actually reveal to her all depended on how much entertainment he gleaned from her in return.

She ducked to hide her pleased smile. With a light sigh, she moved away from the jukebox and decided to lean next to him. "Yeah, sure. I promise."

He grinned down at her. "So... _do_ you miss me?"

Anna threw him an irritated glance out of habit before recalling their promise. She hoped she wasn't going to regret this.

“As long as we’re being honest...yeah, I miss this dumb banter," she admitted with a resigned sigh. "You’re not all that bad when you’re like this.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, leaning toward her with an entertained leer. “You ‘n I can banter all you like in my—”

“I meant when you’re not being a painfully obvious flirt.”

Murdoc gave an easy shrug and settled back against the brick wall. “Love, it was never supposed to be subtle.”

Anna shot him an unimpressed once-over before looking away again. Her hair fell in front of much of her face as she stared at the floor, and she fumbled with the loose strings of the rips in her jeans absently.

She was always so downcast. Her shoulders and head hung like she carried a weight on them, much like Atlas, the fallen Titan of myth who held up the world. He felt exhausted just looking at her.

Christ, she was so small, so goddamn innocent. What the hell could she possibly like about someone like him?

He shoved his hands in his pockets, impatient with the growing silence between them. This dark corner of theirs felt oddly private. Oh, he could see the other patrons, sure, but they all seemed so far away. It was like the two of them were behind a screen, cut off and remote from the rest of the world around them. Murdoc watched as they all talked and laughed and flirted and argued with one another for one disinterested moment before his gaze turned back to her. She didn’t notice his staring, or at least, was pretending not to notice.

Anna wasn’t his type at all, not in looks nor personality. She had a cute face, he'd give her that, but it was marred by her dour attitude and muted clothes. Quiet people always bothered him, too. He could never get a proper read on them, what with the morose twats so far inside their own heads. He preferred associating with more vocal idiots, if anything. That way, he could squeeze out as many favors as their discarded secrets would allow him.

And yet, for all that, Murdoc found he didn’t want to ditch her just yet. There was something about her that was nagging at him, and, when he brushed his fingers against the box of cigarettes in his pocket, he knew.

He cleared his throat and said, “Rather romantic here in the dark. Really sets the mood, y’know?”

Anna snorted, keeping her laughter contained. “Yeah, standing awkwardly in the dark by the women’s bathroom just screams passion. I’m swooning.”

“You want me t’ catch you?” he teased, taking his hands out of his pockets and spreading his arms wide.

His smile was infectious. “Murdoc, I know for a fact you’d rather watch me fall.”

His hands dropped to his sides. “...Yeah, I’ll give ya that,” he muttered.

Anna burst out laughing and ducked her head to hide it. “I can’t trust you for a second.”

“Prob'ly the wisest decision.”

“Definitely the safest one.”

Despite his earlier agitation, Murdoc found himself relaxing more and more as they talked about the most trivial nonsense. Maybe it was all the secondhand smoke in the place settling into his lungs. It had to be. He wasn’t drunk or high off his ass on speed or crack or any of the hard stuff he kept locked away in his Winnebago.

Being completely sober was a dangerous thing for him. It made all those terrible things he’d tried so hard to repress come back to the surface, resulting in an embarrassing anxiety attack that reduced him to a quivering, weak mess. Then again, a bad acid trip pretty much did the same thing, only with more colorful hallucinations. Murdoc preferred knowing it was all some tripped-out dream instead of a cold reality he had to forever carry on his back.

He brushed the thought aside. Whatever. If this was going to be one of the rare times when sobriety wouldn’t fuck him over for once, then he’d let himself ride it out.

"Say..." he began when their light conversation started to lull. "Why'd you get me a Christmas present anyway?"

Anna shrugged. "Why not?" Her voice was so carefree that it irked him.

Murdoc lightly tapped his knuckles against her forehead. "I'm a Satanist, moron. I don't celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ."

She rubbed the spot he had knocked with a rueful frown.

"Besides, the hell you wanna give a gift to _me_ for? Thought you hated me."

After everything he'd done to her, after everything he planned to do...why did she still bother with him at all?

Her eyes fell to the floor.

So she really did like him. Fucking hell.

"I don't...hate you, Murdoc."

"Oh?" he snapped. "So...wot? Wot do you really think of me, Anna?"

Why was he even asking any of this? Did he even want her to confess her feelings for him outright? The thought made him grimace.

Anna tugged at the bottom of her jacket once more, wringing the thick hem in her hands. It was difficult to put these sentiments into words, especially when such sentiments were aimed at Murdoc Niccals. But after all he'd done to help her, intentionally or not, she owed it to him to tell him.

She took a deep breath, bracing herself for his inevitable ridicule and extortion.

"I don't hate you, Murdoc," she repeated. The more she said it, the more true it felt. "I don't think I've ever really hated you."

Reluctant as she was to admit it, his surprise visit today and that time they watched  _The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly_ together was proof of that.

Thinking back to that day was very much a mixed bag. On the one hand, she couldn't deny how she actually enjoyed Murdoc's company. And on the other....

Anna bit her lip. "I just...hate the way you're so quick to take advantage of people. Not just me, but 2-D, too. And Russ a-and Noodle and just...everyone, y'know? But...when you let yourself be yourself instead of playing the manipulative asshole, you're actually a really likable guy."

_And how the hell would you know what I'm really like?_

The words crawled up his throat, at the ready, but he held them back. Snapping at her seemed too much like mocking her, and he had promised he would do no such thing. Besides, Anna was upholding her end of the promise far better than he was. Not that he had any cause to lie in their inconsequential chat earlier, but, then again, she never asked him to reveal too much about himself either. Perhaps he was the one asking too much.

"You can be charming and really funny on your own. I mean, you entertained me and my coworkers back there well enough. And...you helped get Harry off my back. He's nice and all, but I don't like him in that way. To be honest, I didn't really know what to do until you showed up. And then there was that day you saved me from those zombies at Kong."

"I...wot now?" He had meant to let her finish uninterrupted, but this came so unexpectedly that he couldn't help but spew out his incredulity.

Anna laughed a little to herself. "I knew you wouldn't remember. You didn't think it was that big a deal...even though you saved my life. And I guess it's not that big a deal, considering all you did was just pull me inside the studio, but...I still feel like I owe you. I felt like maybe my Christmas present could be the start of paying it all back to you, but I don't know how to go about paying the rest. I mean, you saved  _my life_. How the hell am I supposed to...to quantify that in any way or...or even...think of a way I could possibly—"

"Anna—"

"Please...let me finish first."

If he spoke anymore, she was sure the pressure would make her crumble. Anna looked away, taking a breath as she steeled herself once more. "So...So what I want to say is...."

Oh Christ, here it was.

"Thank you, Murdoc."

Her innocent smile shook him to his very bones.

"Sometimes...you're not such a bad guy."

Murdoc gaped at her in utter disbelief. How could she stand there and seriously spout all that mushy bullshit?

She had to be lying. Or it was a trick. A prank. She'd just turn around the minute he wanted to believe even a sliver of her words and laugh at him for being so recklessly foolish.

It was what his father always did.

Anna turned away, already regretting her words. He'd just scoff and make fun of her for all this, right?

“So...what do you think of me, Murdoc?” she asked, daring to look up at him.

He cupped her face in a hand, felt the surprised rush of heat come to her cheeks, and knew.

She wasn't lying.

Anna was all softness and questions. Her eyes, glittering under the flickering purple neon, searched for the one thing he couldn’t give.

He couldn’t stand her.

As he leaned in, so did she, until their lips met, slow, unsure, seeking, reaching.

It was the kind of kiss that passed on secrets, the ones hidden far beneath the flesh and rooted in near-oblivion. These were the secrets yet to form, and only fully realized at the most inopportune moments.

It was here Anna discovered that Murdoc Niccals was capable of being heart-wrenchingly gentle. It was a side of him she never thought existed, but glistening darkness worked strange magic on the mind of a romantic. She wrapped her arms around him to keep herself steady. She feared she would fall otherwise.

He didn't stick his tongue in her mouth, nor did he want to. All he did was pull her closer to him, ever closer.

There was something oddly alluring about this purity. He felt weightless—floating in a calming ecstasy he normally only experienced when high or during the afterglow of a hot night out.

But no...that was a rubbish comparison. This...This was leagues above any of that.

Murdoc teetered on the verge of an epiphany. It teased at the back of his mind, hinted at something important, something so much more than this one moment, something....

Someone sharply cleared their throat next to them.

They broke apart, startled by the noise, and suddenly, the rest of the general chatter of the pub scattered about them. No one had been paying them any mind all this time.

No one apart from Harry, that was.

He scowled over at the two, and Anna stepped away hastily. Her face grew hot under his scrutinizing gaze and she hunched her shoulders up in a futile attempt to hide.

"Wha're you two  _doin'?_ " he snapped at them. "Have neither'a you any shame?"

Murdoc's eyes gleamed harshly as he pulled Anna to his chest. The normally hellish red iris absorbed the purple light from above, not that this color didn't make his glare any less intense. "None'a yer damn business. Yer not her fucking boyfriend, awright, so why don't you just piss off?"

The lad already hovered over Anna like a goddamn vulture. Christ, there were other women in the world. What the hell did he want her so badly for?

Murdoc felt her squirm against him. Right as he glanced down at her again, she shoved him away.

"You're not my boyfriend, either, Murdoc!" Frustrated tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She had had enough of this. All of this. "So why the hell are you always... _always_ doing this to me?"

Her voice cracked painfully in her throat.

Murdoc felt a curious pang in his chest, but, before he could decipher what it meant, Anna pushed past him and Harry without another word.

He stepped after her, about to call her name, when Harry blocked his path.

"Yer no' t' touch her ever again,  _mate_. Understand?"

Oh, this smarmy, little  _bastard—_

"Harry! We're gonna wait fer you outside!" Tom called back to the two of them. His normal voice was just loud enough to be heard over the buzz of others' conversations.

Murdoc spared a glance over at the group. Anna's coworkers had all gotten out of the booth to comfort her as she rubbed at her face furiously. Em had an unsure hand on Anna's elbow while Amelia patted her back and snapped at anyone who looked over at them. The three of them soon ushered her out.

He scowled at Harry once more. "Are you fucking mental? I was about to get the slag to sleep with me, 'n you just ruined it!"

Of course. That was it. That had to be the thing he was struggling so hard to reach earlier...right?

Actually, why had he been struggling to think at all around her? It was just a kiss. Just some stupid, bloody kiss that meant nothing to him.

The tosser wobbled on his feet as he tried to look tough and it was then Murdoc realized.

Harry was really,  _really_ fucking drunk.

He was thinking about unleashing a massive verbal tirade against the unsuspecting wanker, but it was clear that wouldn't do any good. He had learned the hard way to never argue with a drunk. All the pointless scuffs with his dad, his brother, and numerous burly strangers taught him that.

"Deal's off, ya bawnose. Don' you ever touch 'er 'gain, eh?" Harry slurred, pointing a slow finger right at his nose.

Murdoc smacked his offending hand away then roughly bumped against his shoulder as he made his way to the bar. He knew his fucking cursed sobriety wouldn't let him dodge his old scars for long.

Much to his complete annoyance, Harry stumbled after him, babbling some self-righteous bullshit about how much better he would be for Anna.

"I know how t' take care'a her, not like you ever could. I mean, you can't even take care'a yerself—"

"Oh, why don't you go fuck her already if you want her so badly?!" Murdoc yelled, loud enough for the entire pub to hear. "Or are you that much of a fucking pussy that you can't even confess to her drunk?"

Harry reeled back unsteadily, as if his words had slapped him.

After a few moments, he squinted and said, "Yeah...Yeah, maybe I'll do tha', ya wanker. Serve ya righ'."

Murdoc glared at his stumbling, retreating form so fiercely that incoming patrons took one look at him and went back out the door.

When the doors finally eked shut, he slammed his fist on the counter.

"Oi, bartender!" he shouted. "Gimme the strongest shit you got."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a lyric from Gorillaz' "Slow Country", a song that I absolutely adore. Self-titled is full of a bunch of good songs tbh.
> 
> Sorry this chapter came out way later than usual. It's been a really hectic week for me.
> 
> Also RIP Murdoc Niccals. He was a shitty man who died a shitty death. *blasts a terrible recorder cover of Broken in his memory*
> 
> Unfortunately, I've managed to catch up to the backlog of chapters I've been keeping up to be able to update this fic every Friday. I'd like to build that queue back up again so I can continue these weekly updates (rather than post sporadically), so I'm afraid I'll be taking a short hiatus. I'm going to take perhaps a one to three week break, depending on how much time I have in the coming days.
> 
> Until next time, my dudes! Thank you for all the support so far!


	14. Fakin' the Funk

****Amelia wished she had had the nerve to refuse letting Harry come with them to the pub at all. He always leeched the fun out of everything, what with his pompous nature and abundance of fake smiles. And now there was this….

She watched as Tom and Em tried their best to offer their boss whispered comforts and pats to her back.

It wasn’t enough.

Besides, Anna wasn’t looking to be comforted. What she needed, more than anything, was help sorting through whatever happened back there with Murdoc and Harry.

Amelia fumbled for a cigarette from her purse. She knew her boss didn’t like the smell, but, after everything that happened inside, she felt she was due one.

The stream of smoke she blew out hovered over their little group for one concerned moment before joining the rest of the haze that ensnared the small pub.

Amelia took one more drag before mumbling, “So, you…uh…. You break up with yer boyfriend back there?” Some ash fell from her cigarette when she gestured back at the pub.

Em and Tom threw her exasperated looks, but she was undeterred.

“He’s not…. He was never my _boyfriend_ ,” Anna croaked.

The word wrung painfully in her chest. Boyfriend…. As if Murdoc Niccals could ever scrounge up enough honesty to commit to something like that.

The two of them had even joked about how untrustworthy he was and yet….

Anna wiped her stubborn, frustrated tears with her sleeve. Amelia had no idea what she was talking about. She had a boyfriend who would never take advantage of her when she was vulnerable, or use his friends to trick her into sleeping with him. Her boyfriend wouldn’t constantly lie to her face and act like he was never in the wrong for doing so.

No, she had a boyfriend who loved her.

The acidic words bubbled in her chest, eating away at her last bit of common sense and teetering on self-destruction.

Another quiet sob tore at her throat.

The words collapsed.

Amelia took another drag before she said, “‘m drunk, not stupid.”

“What?”

“You two were flirtin’ with each other the whole time 'e was 'ere,” she said, her voice breezy. “‘n don’t think I didn’ notice 'ow you two went off together—in the dark, mind you. Seemed like you two were 'avin’ a good chat back there. More ‘n a chat, really.”

The knowing gleam in Amelia’s eyes made her heart sink. She knew. She had seen them earlier.

Anna’s eyes fell to the pavement. She was so goddamn stupid. Did she really think no one had seen them? They were right there, out in the open, a declaration of their intentions revealed to anyone who bothered to simply look.

They had been caught more than once now, so why did she always let him do this? Why did she always find herself drawn to Murdoc despite everything he’d done to her? Was he really that charming? Or was she so desperate to believe his compliments that she constantly let them blind her from the truth?

“That didn’t mean anything.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “He was just messing with me again.”

“Are you sure?” Amelia asked, ignoring both Tom and Em’s puzzled stares. It was clear they hadn’t seen a thing. Best keep it that way until Anna felt more comfortable talking about whatever happened back there.

Anna’s shoulders began to tremble. “You guys don’t know what he’s like. Murdoc’s a total scumbag. All he’s ever tried to do is get me in bed with him. H-He isn’t….”

The image of Murdoc first entering the pub made her falter. He looked just as startled as she was to see her there, and she was sure he was going to simply turn around and leave. That was, until he noticed Harry’s arm around her.

Anna had no idea what compelled him to help her out. Her aunt made him out to be this cowardly, perverted player who couldn't be bothered to care for anyone but himself. And, after getting to know him a little more, she was right…for the most part. But Murdoc was also ridiculous and funny and poetic and so easy to talk to that she had wished, back in that dark corner of theirs, she could trust him to be something more.

They knew each other more intimately than acquaintances, flirted with one another like lovers, and yet they were none of those things. Not acquaintances, not friends, and certainly not lovers.

It frustrated her to no end not knowing where they stood.

Some nights she wondered if it would really be all that bad to sleep with him. Who was to say they _couldn’t_ just be friends with benefits? It wasn’t as if she wanted to be in a relationship with him anyway. At least then, they would have a way to establish some proper boundaries with one another. At least then, she would have a name to what they were.

Still...the idea of handing over her virginity to _Murdoc_ of all people was a humiliating one, to say the least. It would be a mark of desperation, one she was sure he would hold over her head for as long as they knew one another. And then there was the matter of her aunt’s friend….

Anna shut her eyes, resigned. No...she couldn’t sleep with him. It wouldn’t lead anywhere, and, in the end, one of them would have to break it off once they found someone else they could actually be in a relationship with. It was best to just never enter anything with him in the first place...right?

“Wot would be so bad about that?” Amelia asked, an eerie echo of her thoughts. “You two clearly like each other at least a lil’ bit. A one-night stand’s not gonna kill you.”

“I...I can’t.”

“Why?” Em suddenly piped up. “Is he...dating someone else?”

Anna shook her head. “No…. It’s just…my aunt.”

“She doesn’t want you to date him?” Amelia prompted.

Anna’s gaze fell. Why did she feel like she was being interrogated? What did it matter to them what she felt or if Murdoc was dating someone else or anything ridiculous like that?

“My aunt had a friend who slept with him a bunch of times,” she began carefully. “When she asked him to be her boyfriend, he left. It tore her apart.”

Much to her utter disbelief, Amelia just shrugged. “Well, sure, that  _sounds_  scummy, but 'ave you considered it from 'is perspective? Maybe he jus' didn' want tha' kind of relationship with her. Sleepin' with someone, even 'f it's more 'n once, don’t mean yer guaranteed a _romantic_ relationship with 'em.”

Anna was so taken aback by this that she couldn’t help but sputter, “H-Huh?”

“How well did yer aunt’s friend know 'm?” Amelia continued. “‘Cause if she didn’ know 'm on much of a personal level, then you can’t exactly blame 'm for refusin' 'er.”

Vertigo tipped Anna’s sense of gravity, and she had to lean on the wall next to her to regain some semblance of balance.

“But...But she….” The words came out in a strangled wheeze.

“I knew a couple guys who got in my pants ‘fore they got to know me personally, ‘n it jus' felt really weird when they asked me out afterwards, y’know?” Amelia grimaced at the memory. “I thought they knew wot it was we ‘ad, but, er, I guess not. Some people get too attached—‘specially after sex. But sex ain’t love, no matter how it feels.”

Her aunt had said that Murdoc used her friend...but was her friend really used? Was that friend coerced the same way she had been, or had it been a more mutual agreement until that friend asked for more than he was willing to give?

She had been so focused on what others had told her about Murdoc that she never took into account her own thoughts or feelings about him. Sure, he flirted with her constantly, but he never did it to get a rise out of her or acted as if it were all some sick joke. No, Murdoc was genuinely attracted to her. He talked to her about video games and anime, asked her questions about her other interests, and even took the time to explain his own to her as if....

Anna gulped. It was as if they were friends.

Was that how he saw them this whole time? Just two friends who chatted and teased each other and had the potential to go a step further if she wanted to? He didn’t seem to have a problem with it, and, even after all those times he kissed her, he would still act as casual as he always was around her.

So long as they understood what they were to one another...what was the harm, really?

Suddenly, Amelia laughed and stumbled a little as she placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry. Prob’ly not makin’ any sense righ' now.”

“Actually, you’ve helped me make more sense out of everything going on right now than anyone else.” Anna’s smile was so carefree and light, one would think she had had several drinks that night, too. “Thanks, Amelia.”

Amelia looked startled for a moment, swaying as she adjusted her footing in her heels. “O-Oh, yeah? That’s good, I guess. Good fer you,” she slurred. She was starting to fade, just a little.

She jolted, as if suddenly remembering something, then dug in her purse with clumsy fingers. “‘ere, wipe yer face,” she mumbled, offering Anna a small pack of tissues.

Anna turned to the other two after blowing her nose. “Thank you guys, too.” Her voice came out muffled from behind her third tissue.

Tom squinted at her. “Wha’ for?”

“Yeah, we didn’t do nothin’,” Em replied.

“You guys were nice enough to be with me, even though I was a mess. So, really, thanks,” Anna said, her smile growing.

“Oh, ‘s nothin’,” Tom said, sounding sleepy.

Em nodded along. “‘s wot friends do, innit?”

Her friends…. Just how many people had she made friends with over here? Anna never saw herself as someone interesting enough to be that good of a friend—in fact, she hardly had any friends back in L.A. because of this—so why did so many people over here seem to think otherwise?

It was then Harry stumbled out of the pub.

“Le’s go’n,” he grumbled, nearly veering into a pole in his hurry.

Tom caught his arm before he stumbled right into Em. “Hey, mate, you okay?”

Harry jerked away with a scowl. “Don’ touch me.”

Anna frowned at him as he scuttled to her car. Of course he wanted the front seat.

She sighed as she turned back to Tom again. “Sorry, dude.”

He just heaved a nonchalant shrug. “Oh, ‘s alright. ’m used to it.”

Anna wished she had something to say to him, but she was exhausted and freezing and had a million other things on her mind she had yet to sort through.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” she said instead, putting a reassuring hand on his arm.

“'kay,” he muttered as he rubbed his eyes. She hoped he'd be able to stay awake enough to get inside his flat safely.

Amelia’s place was the closest. Luckily, her flat was on the first floor, and her boyfriend seemed to be home, so they didn’t have to worry about her too much. Em’s flat wasn’t all that far away either, but she lived all the way up on the third floor. Anna and Tom volunteered to help her find her apartment again and made sure she went to bed without waking up her flatmates.

Tom’s flat was practically on the outskirts of Essex. The lull of the engine must have put him to sleep based on his light snoring in the back seat. She only hoped she’d be able to wake him up by the time they got there.

Harry had been blearily staring out the window for the majority of the ride, but with Amelia and Em now gone and Tom conked out for the night, he finally turned his full attention to her.

She spared him a curious glance, but his face was an empty slate. His gaze prickled horribly along her skin and slowly, oh-so-slowly began to burrow through it. The stifling air around her grew hotter and hotter until she scrambled to open her window just to be able to breathe again.

Shaky gulps of winter night settled her rising anxiety somewhat. It reminded her of Murdoc’s leather jacket, how it exuded a welcome cold against the thick air of the bar, of that night they met at the Brownhouse, and how his careless arm around her shoulders kept her warm as they walked to the café later that night.

After living in California all her life, Anna thought she would despise the perpetually cold weather of the U.K.

Now she found she craved it.

The wind whipping in through the open window forced Harry to look away. Finally.

By the time they got to Tom’s flat, she nearly cried in relief. It was too much—Harry’s judgmental, crawling, unfocused gaze pressing upon her, the dead silence of the ride with no one to help her out.

All of it.

Everything.

Harry didn’t come out to help her with Tom, and for that, she was relieved. There was only so much she could take.

Tom didn’t wake up until she yelled his name right in his ear, and even then, he rose so slowly she was afraid he was just going to turn over and go to sleep again. Once he figured out where he was, he threw Anna a sleepy grin and patted her head as he lumbered out of the back seat. His gait was unsteady, but at least he was able to stay on his feet.

“Thanksh ‘gain,” Tom slurred as he got to his front door.

She smiled. “No problem, man. Take it easy, okay?”

Much to their surprise, the front door creaked open before Tom could even fit the key in the lock.

“Tom? That you, mate?” a deep voice called out.

“Oh! Nate, you shtayed up fer me?” Tom crooned. “Aw, I love you!”

Nate’s eyes burned as he opened the door further. “Tom! Not so loud!” he hissed as he tugged him inside. He looked around the hall to make sure no one had heard before turning his sour gaze to Anna.

“H-Hi,” she began awkwardly. The dark-haired man before her was so tall she had to crane her head up just to look at him. “You're Nathan, right?”

He gave her a short once-over and his frown relented. “Yeah. Sorry about that. Just...don’t want ‘im to advertise us, y’know? I like my privacy. Don’t want the neighbors to pry...or complain.”

Anna nodded. “It's fine. Sorry for getting him home so late.”

Nate offered her a crooked smile. “Yeah, well, thanks for bringin’ him back in one piece. He gets really stupid when he’s drunk.”

She gave him a small smile of her own.

Nate looked around the hall once more before saying a quick goodbye to her and shutting the door.

Anna’s smile fell as she shuffled mechanically back to her car. With Tom’s flat being on the first floor, she didn’t have much distance to cover, and, soon enough, she had reached the parking lot.

When she caught Harry leaning against his door, hands stuffed in his pockets and head down, her stomach sank. The street lamps cast a thick shadow over his face, so she couldn’t even read his expression.

Anna wrung her hands together. Her pepper spray and cell phone were in the car.

“H-Harry, are you okay?” she asked, her voice reedy.

His head lolled over to her, the same glazed look plastered on his face. She had paused a good few feet away from him, but he closed that precious gap with just a couple steps. His towering frame swathed in a pungent alcohol stench nearly made her gag.

“W-We should—”

Just as she took a step away from him, Harry clamped a hand around her arm, held her alarmed face in his other hand, and all but fell on her mouth.

Anna jerked away, but his attacks were relentless.

One, two, five desperate kisses landed on her cheek, the corner of her lips, even her nose before she managed to wrench out of his hold.

She should have been terrified. Enraged, even. But, after watching him nearly fall to the pavement in a clumsy attempt to reach her once more, all she felt was empty.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Even she was startled by the dead chill in her own voice.

Harry blinked up at her. “Wha’?”

Anna slapped him across the face as hard as she could before walking around him to get to her car.

Right as she grabbed the handle, Harry sputtered, “A-Are ya off yer head? Damn bitch….”

He staggered to his feet, clutching his face like it held the fragments of his shattered pride.

The door clicked open quietly.

“It’s ‘cause I’m no’ Murdoc, is tha’ it?”

She made the mistake of indulging his taunt. “What are you talking about?”

His eyes glinted with an undisguised malice under the street lamps as he hacked out an ugly laugh.

“Don’ ack stupid,” he slurred. “I know _all_ abou’ yer lil’ snoggin’ sessions with tha' bawnosed bastard. Can’t believe you even let 'm touch you. God, he’s gotta be crawlin’ with diseases, tha’ scabby numpty.”

He spread his arms out wide, the very image of a man crucifying himself in his own mind.

“Wha’ abou’ me, eh?” Harry shouted. “You’d rather be with some pervy old man than me?”

He took a step toward her. “I listened t’ you! I talked with you! I watched tha' horrid movie, ‘n learned how to kiss fer you, ‘n thought abou’ you, ‘n trea’ed you better than he ever could! ‘r ever will!”

Harry’s voice crackled at the end, as if he were about to cry.

“Yer exac’ly like him, aren’t you?” he wailed. “You’ve been toyin’ with me all this time, righ’? Makin’ me think you were this shy, incompetent girl that needed protectin’ when, really, you were just a bitch! Wha’, are ya playin’ Murdoc, too? Waitin’ until he makes it big to sleep with him then take his money?”

The car rocked as Anna threw her door shut. There were too many foul things she wanted to say to him, too many insults to spew in one breath, but none of those things were what rose out of her mouth.

“You think you know me, Harry?” The words scraped out of her like thorns. “You think I’d fall for you after you said all that shit about me? At least Murdoc is honest with me! At least he’s straightforward about everything he does! At least I feel like I _know_ him. But you?"

She gestured at his pathetic form like it was discarded trash that missed the bucket. "You were never a friend to me! You hate everything I like and want me to be this...this gross image of me you have in your head! You want me to be someone I’m not! And it’s people like _you_ that I fucking hate most! So you better shut the hell up and get the hell out of my life because I’m not going to fucking take it anymore.”

The chill that took hold of him when he first shook Murdoc’s hand suddenly spiked through his whole being, piercing every single atom through with frost.

“ _You might’ve actually stood a chance at winning her over if you were a genuinely nice guy. But you ‘n I both know that’s not the case now, innit?_ ” Murdoc had said to him earlier today. “ _You only think yer a nice person, when really, you’re as much of a bastard as I am. Least I'm upfront about it. Anna seems to like that about me, whether she knows it or not._ ”

It was over.

The Devil was not kind to those who broke their deals, and now, he would face his retribution.

Harry shambled to her car, but she quickly locked all the doors. He peered through the tinted window, putting on another one of those fake smiles she hated so much.

“C’mon, Anna…. Don’ be mad. Jus’ open th’ door, mkay?” he pleaded, already desperately pulling on the door handle.

Anna started the car.

His smile twisted into something more menacing. “Open th’ door now. C’mon. I don’ know where I am. You can’t expect me to go to the queer’s place, yeah? Righ’?”

She threw him one last dead-eyed glance. Harry was panicked and sweaty and pathetic, and she would have nothing to do with him or any guys like him ever again.

When she drove off into the night, she could still hear his furious insults chasing after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is "Fakin' the Funk" by Main Source, one of Russel's favorite groups. It's also just really fitting for Harry, tbh.
> 
> I'm so sorry for taking way longer than I said I would to update. Right after I decided to take that hiatus, some personal drama I'd rather not get into took place, and it shook me for a while. It was hard to get back into writing after that, and even more so after my boss kept assigning me more and more work. As a result, I didn't get to build the queue I wanted, and, well, here we are three months later than I wanted to be.
> 
> Because of this, I also wanted to change my usual weekly schedule to every other week so I can pace myself better. I don't like rushing out my chapters like I did with Chapter Thirteen (which has been fully edited and updated now). I hope you guys can understand. I am trying my best with the time I have.
> 
> I know this chapter was short, but I have a lot planned for this next chapter! Get ready for more Murdoc and Anna stuff because now that she's realized she actually kinda likes him, there's no going back from that, lol.
> 
> Until next time, my dudes! Thank you for being patient with me!


	15. Falling Out the Sky

Pieces of her were strewn all over Essex. A fragment she once thought essential still laid discarded in that parking lot outside Tom’s flat. Harry had ripped it away from her, exposed its crawling, parasitic nature, then clumsily tried to gift it back to her.

But Anna would not tolerate her own complacency any longer. She'd rather let it rot.

An even larger part hovered back in that dark corner of the pub, stuck in a moment that was never meant to happen.

The worst part of it all was she didn’t even mind. She would just reassemble herself again in the morning.

Of course, sleep didn’t help, only offered a comforting delay.

Anna grimaced at the growing bruise on her arm in the bathroom mirror.

The horror of unearthing Harry’s true nature hadn’t fully hit her until now. He had practically assaulted her. If she hadn’t wrenched out of his hold...if she hadn’t rushed to her car afterwards...who knew what he would have done?

Shame and dread and disgust roiled within her the longer she looked at the bruise.

Why did she shut down the moment he grabbed her? Why didn’t she just kick him or scream or do _something?_

Shutting down in a moment like that was dangerous. Reckless, even. And even still, she did not regret the words she spilled last night.

Anna shoved her sweater sleeve back down. Out of sight, out of mind.

At least until she had to face him again at work.

She was too quiet during breakfast and on the way to the office.

Anna hoped she could’ve at least made it to lunch without being interrogated, but this vain hope died as soon as her aunt called her name. She hadn't even managed to make it out of the car yet.

“Something happen last night?” Nora pressed.

She stared blankly out the window. “...It’s nothing.”

“So something _did_ happen. Alright.” Her aunt shifted to face her properly. “Was it something to do with Harry? I know he went out with you and the interns last night.”

Anna clenched her jaw.

“Oh Christ, what the hell did he do?”

She tugged at her sweater sleeve again. Might as well tell her.

“He...tried to kiss me last night.” Her voice was little above a whisper. The memory made her chest feel tight, and she put a hand over the hidden bruise. “Then he yelled at me for refusing him.”

Nora bristled. “He  _what?_ ”

“He was drunk.”

“That’s no excuse.”

Anna finally looked at her. “I didn’t say it was.”

There was such a mature steadiness to her niece’s gaze that Nora felt embarrassed for nearly going on a tirade. Clearly, after whatever happened last night, Anna considered this matter to be over with.

Even so....

Nora blew her hair out of her face. “You okay, at least?”

“...Yeah.”

“I’m firing him today.”

There was no room for argument here, though Anna didn’t seem inclined to give one.

“Okay,” her aunt said then stormed out of her car.

The receptionist jumped in her seat when Nora threw open the front doors. The poor girl's weak greeting caught in her throat right when her boss’s steely eyes cut to her.

“Is Harry in?” she asked, pushing her dark hair back impatiently.

The receptionist shook her head.

Nora clicked her tongue. “Tell me when he gets here.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am….”

The receptionist helplessly looked to Anna for some kind of explanation, but she just stared at the ground until she got to her cubicle.

Anna was in the middle of looking over one last article before lunch when Harry finally showed up. She hadn’t noticed he had even come in until he stood right by her cubicle and spewed out her name.

Her pen strayed far off the page and smeared onto her desk as her eyes slowly rose to meet his.

He was in terrible shape—bags and dark circles squatted under his eyes, his curly hair matted down into a sad, wilted mop, clothes crumpled instead of neatly pressed. The faint stench of alcohol still clung to him, desperate and curdled.

“‘m sorry fer last night,” he began, scratching the back of his head. There was something about the movement that seemed rehearsed, like he were feigning shame rather than truly feeling it. “I wasn’ thinkin’ clearly, y’know, after the beers ‘n all. I dunno wha’ came over me. But I won’t ever let it happen again.”

 _And it won’t. Not after today,_ Anna thought.

"So I was wonderin' if we could—"

“My aunt is looking for you,” she cut in as she turned back to her work.

Harry’s eye twitched. Didn’t she hear him at all?

“You didn’ go ‘n tell her abou’ last night, did you?” The threatening undercurrent in his voice made her face tighten. Just who the hell did he think he was? Who did he think _she_ was?

Anna didn’t bother looking up as she repeated, “My aunt is looking for you.”

Harry gripped the partition next to her so hard his knuckles became white. “Now hold on. Let’s talk about this, yeah?” His voice quavered underneath his calm front. “We’re both civil adults here.”

“Are you sure?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Now wha’s that supposed t' mean?”

Anna flipped a page, unfazed. “I have work to do.”

Before he had the chance to snap, Nora’s voice crackled on the intercom.

“ _Harry Campbell. My office._ Now.”

Where Harry had been struggling to hide his irritation, her aunt’s was very, _very_ audible.

Dread seized him by the throat. The unfortunate few employees who had ended up on her bad side over the years always left humiliated, their previous professional facades stripped away to reveal the horrible people they were underneath.

The sheer difference between the person who went in and the foaming lunatic that came out alarmed him, but not for the reasons everyone else might think. They were shocked they had been working with such a scumbag the entire time.

He was terrified of how easily Nora tore away their masks.

A wretched scowl twisted across his face as he turned to Anna one last time. “Can’t believe I wasted my time on you, bitch.”

She tapped the edited articles against the counter. They were done.

“Goodbye, Harry.”

He kicked at her partition so hard it quivered in its spot. The other editors threw him an incredulous look then quickly averted their eyes when he glared over at them all. Another creep among their ranks weeded out, it seemed.

Once Harry disappeared into Nora’s office, the interns padded over to Anna, Amelia up front and the other two hovering behind her.

“Wot’s _his_ problem?” Amelia asked, jerking her chin at the closed office door.

Anna met her concerned hazel eyes. “You guys going on your lunch break?”

“Yeah, but wot—”

The interns flinched when they heard Nora’s voice rising behind the door.

Anna handed off the articles to another startled editor without so much as batting an eye.

The three of them tried to see what was going on, but she just ushered them away from the crackling tension and on to the cold-lit day.

* * *

Anna and the remaining editors and interns scrambled to make up the work Harry's absence had left behind. Difficult as it was to admit, he had been a big help to the magazine. He had taken on assignments no one else wanted, and managed to book far more interviews with underground bands than anyone else. It was his interview with Gorillaz that practically doubled their readership, after all.

Or at least, that was what Anna let everyone else believe.

Of course, all that was a part of his facade as an amiable coworker, but this knowledge did not soothe anyone's stress once weekly deadlines loomed over their heads.

She became so busy trying to keep up that, lately, her sparse hang-outs with Gorillaz only lasted as long as her lunch breaks did.

Murdoc never came along on these trips, mostly because he liked to sleep in until well past noon, though Anna figured there was another reason, too.

That kiss in the pub changed something between the two of them. If there even was anything there to begin with. Sure, they had swapped a few stories, jokes and quips, even more than a couple intimate moments with one another, but that was hardly enough basis for whatever that kiss entailed for the both of them.

He had been far, far too gentle for her to blame his usual sleazy tricks. In fact, there was nothing sleazy about the kiss. It had felt warm. Nice, even.

And that was what confused her most. Murdoc Niccals did not do nice. He was not warm or gentle or even the slightest bit soft-hearted.

So what had changed that night?

He couldn’t have been that touched by her thanks...could he?

No matter how many times she ran the moment over and over again in her mind, Anna couldn’t come up with any sort of conclusion that made sense. He hadn’t been intoxicated, otherwise she would have smelled it on him. He hadn’t been high, either, or his replies wouldn’t have been nearly as lucid as they were.

Pretty soon, she began to turn to wild impossibilities, impossibilities that she hadn't dared think of before, and so, in her empty frustration, she unceremoniously shoved the matter to the back of the mind.

And there it stayed.

It was a particularly warm Friday afternoon in May when she got an unexpected call.

“Hello, this is Anna Santos, writer and editor for Sound Underground. How may I help you?” she began, setting aside her fully edited articles.

There was a sharp crackle on the other line but nothing else.

Anna frowned. “Hello?”

Some fervent rustling, then a slightly panicked, “ _Nyeeeh, what’s up, doc?_ ”

Her face fell into a deadpan. “April Fools’ Day was last month, you fool.”

Murdoc’s grating chuckling still made her smile despite herself. “ _Aw, c’mon, love. You couldn’t have played along even a bit?_ ”

“What, did you want me to be Daffy?”

“ _Sure, if you could do a decent impression._ ”

“Like your Bugs was any good?” she teased, leaning her head against a hand. “It was desssshpicable.”

Murdoc snorted. _“Oh, wow, that was god-awful. Way worse ‘n mine, ‘n I wasn’t even trying._ ”

Anna twirled a pen between her fingers as she casually looked to make sure her aunt wasn’t around. “Dude, you need to stop calling me at work. I have shit to do.”

“ _Is that right_ _? Well, then give me yer cell number 'n I’ll stop bothering you here._ ”

She hated how the mere thought of his stupid, self-satisfied smirk made her face feel warm.

After one last glance around, she whispered, “Do you have a pen and paper around?”

He gave a startled grunt, then, “ _Oh? You usually put up a fight whenever I ask for your number. Why the sudden change in heart, darling?”_

Anna smiled down at her desk. “Just in a generous mood, I guess.”

“ _Ooooh, lucky me,"_ he purred.

A small shiver glided down her spine. She almost forgot how low he let his voice slip for no other reason than to tease her—in more ways than one where her imagination was concerned.

After scribbling down her number, he asked, “ _While you're in a rather, ah, generous mood, wot d'you say you come down t' Kong ‘n visit, hm? It’s been ages since you’ve last been here._ ”

Anna perked up. “Oh? Are you guys recording again today?”

Her enthusiasm was so genuine that it threw him off. “Er, well, no….”

“ _Oh…._ ”

Murdoc bristled. He should have lied and said they were, dammit. Bad idea to call after just waking up, really, but Murdoc Niccals was not normally one to think things through.

“Erm, but it is 2-D’s birthday soon,” he blurted out. It was the only other excuse he could think of. “So at least come over fer that, yeah?”

 _“Oh, shit, really? Now I_ have _to visit you guys."_

Score.

" _So do you know what he wants or—"_

"No, wait, listen...."

He had her attention. Now was the time to act.

“I, um…. I also thought of a way fer you t' pay me back.”

When he was rummaging around 2-D’s room the other day to snag some of his painkillers, he found his skull switchblade among the boy’s things. The thieving bugger swore up and down that he had no idea how it got into his room, but Murdoc was not in the mood to deal with his brainless excuses. Besides, 2-D probably forgot he even took it, the fucking idiot.

Of course, his mind always went back to Anna whenever he saw the blade. It wasn’t as if he wanted to, particularly, but he couldn’t deny that even the idea of her using it against hordes of zombies made him smile, just a little.

Besides, the blade suited her—small, sharp, and quick to sting.

It was only then he came up with the idea of how to settle her asinine debt. All that was left was when to tell her. With Face-Ache’s birthday coming up soon, he finally had an excuse to call her up.

Anna sucked in a breath. She knew it was a mistake to tell him about that. There was only one thing he could want from her, and it wasn’t something she wanted to hand over as a payment for something else. Old-fashioned as it might seem, she wanted her first time to mean something.

“M-Murdoc, listen—”

“ _Help us take care’a our lil’ zombie problem, 'n I’ll call it square,_ ” he continued right as she started to speak.

She blinked. “Wait, what?”

“ _I told you zombies tend to rise once a month ‘round here, right? You could help us a few more times with ‘em, 'n I’ll consider that lil’ debt’a yers paid in full._ ”

Anna nearly dropped her phone. After all these months of mentally preparing for something so laughably different, the sheer simplicity of his own solution made her want to slam her head against a wall. It was a wonder this hadn’t ever occurred to her before.

Still, the thought of those shambling, oozing _things_ even coming near her again made her stomach wrench.

“Murdoc...." Anna forced herself to swallow back the bile rising up her throat. "I don’t know if I can face any more zombies….”

“ _You’ve dealt with ‘em once before, haven’t you?_ _Wot’s one more time?_ ”

God, she wanted to strangle him.

“ _Besides, you won’t be facing ‘em, so to speak,_ ” he added. _“We got two sniper rifles, so you could just shoot 'em down along with Noodle._ ”

Relief settled over her like a warm blanket. “So, what, is Noodle gonna teach me then?” she asked, only half-joking. She certainly wouldn't be opposed to the idea.

“ _Yeah, but it’d do you some good to learn how t’ shoot handguns, too. Just in case we get any real bad outbreaks like the last time you saw ‘em.”_

Of course she had to be there for one of their worst cleaning days. Her luck would not have dictated otherwise.

 _“I-I can teach you a lil’, ah, hand-to-hand combat, too, if you want,”_ he offered. _“‘Course, when I say ‘hand-to-hand combat’, I’m talking about_ —”

“Just the guns for me, please.”

A significant pause pinpointed his disappointment, but he brushed it off just as quickly. “ _Eh, awright, but yer missing out. At least you get to see a lil’ sneak preview of_ my _guns when you get here.”_

“What guns?" she scoffed. "You mean those sticks for arms?”

His confident smirk collapsed into a scowl. “I could say the same thing about you, love.”

The irritation in his voice was so tangible that she couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay,” she relented in between giggles. “I’ll come after work.”

Murdoc grinned despite himself. “Awright. See ya then, babe.”

Before she could protest to the unwarranted pet name, he hung up and left her frowning at a dial tone.

* * *

“Hey, Anna,” Amelia greeted as she went up to her cubicle. Em and Tom peeked around her and waved. “You goin' out with us again today?”

Anna offered them an apologetic smile as she gathered her stuff together. “Sorry, not today."

"Why? You got a date 'r somethin'?"

It was just a good-natured poke, but her boss's flushed face hinted she was right on the mark.

"Oh, don't tell me you  _do_ have a date?"

Tom smiled at her. "Do you?"

Em, ever the brusque one, asked, "Is it Murdoc?"

"What? N-No, I...." Anna faltered as they all grinned at her.

"I'm not going on a date!" she insisted, her face pink. "I'm just gonna go hang out with Gorillaz today 'cause it’s 2-D’s birthday, so I...I gotta get him a present. Stop making it sound like I have a thing for Murdoc already.”

Em tilted her head. “Don’t you, though? You talk about him an awful lot, Miss Santos.”

The sentiment was innocent enough, but that didn’t fluster her any less.

“I don’t talk about him that much...do I?” Anna spluttered, throwing Tom a pleading look.

He averted his gaze as he rubbed the back of his head. “Er...yeah, you kinda do.”

Anna hunched her shoulders up, a futile attempt to hide her shame.

“But we don’t mind!” he tried to reassure her. “Really! We’re happy to listen!”

“You _could_ do a lot better, though,” Amelia said. When Tom and Em threw her a look, she shrugged. “Just sayin’....”

The four of them had to cut their conversation short when they reached Anna’s car.

She waved at them all as she strolled to the driver’s side. “Bye guys! Have fun!”

“We will! But you might wanna dress up a bit if you plan on havin’ any fun yerself,” Amelia added with a suggestive wink.

Em tugged her away. “C’mon now, Amelia. Stop botherin’ Miss Santos already.”

“Awright, awright,” Amelia said, waving her away. “See ya, Anna. Take care.”

“Bye, Miss Santos!” Em called over her shoulder.

“Yeah! See you guys next week!”

“You better spill all the details if anything does happen!”

Anna watched with an amused smile as Em scolded Amelia all the way over to their cars.

It fell to a grimace once she glanced down at herself.

She had set her alarm to the wrong time that morning, and, in her frantic rush to get ready, her aunt accidentally spilled coffee all over her shirt and jeans.

Despite her aunt’s insistence that she go change, they were already running late as it was. Anna patted herself down the best she could with some napkins and just went the whole day smelling like coffee. She considered that last part a bit of a plus, but that did not make everyone’s stares any less overbearing.

She blew out a sigh.

 _Well,_ she thought as she started her car,  _I should at least change before I get there…._

* * *

Murdoc draped himself against the front door frame, blowing out a smoky sigh as he tugged at his drenched tanktop. He really needed to get the bloody air conditioner fixed. The humidity inside Kong stuck to every surface, every pore and wall and open bit of skin. He despised it. It felt like an anxiety attack waiting to happen, so he came out for a bit of fresh air to clear his head.

It was definitely _not_ because he was waiting for Anna to come over, no matter what the hell Dents or Noodle implied. Like he gave two shits about some quiet, plain reporter girl.

He straightened up once he saw Anna’s car slash through the cemetery. Russ had left the front gate open for her before he went out, and the car chugged happily along until it swirled up the spire to meet him.

The fresh cigarette smoldering in his mouth nearly fell out once she stepped out of the car.

Anna caught his incredulous look and her gaze immediately fell to the floor.

She knew she had overdressed. Her hair was rolled up into a bun at the nape of her neck—to prevent it from getting in the way when learning to shoot, of course. Her dark blue cardigan blew out in the breeze, revealing a low-cut white shirt and her nicest dark jeans. She had even borrowed her aunt’s heavy black boots to give herself a bit more height, if only to combat any advances he would surely make with a swift kick to his pride and joy.

She thought she looked at least presentable in the mirror, but now, with Murdoc’s eyes roaming over her, she felt scrutinized and ridiculous.

Just what was she trying to prove, anyway? She wasn’t pretty. No amount of fancy clothes could change that. She should have just stuck to her default scruffy look. At least then, her messed-up clothes would've matched the rest of her appearance.

“You’re all dolled-up today,” he said, switching his cigarette to the other side of his mouth.

Great, now he was teasing her.

“Not really….”

“Yes, rrrrreally.” The gravel in his voice slid down her back. “You tryin’a impress me ‘r something?”

_Yes._

“Hell no.”

“Well, it’s working,” he went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “That outfit is hugging you in _all_ the right places.”

 _Oh my God_.

“S-So...So where’d you get all these guns from anyway?” she asked, heading inside before him.

His eyes fell to her ass for one appreciative moment before taunting, “Now that’s fer me t’ know, ‘n you to imagine, love.”

“So...like on the black market?” His gaze snapped back up to her face when she turned to smirk at him. 

Murdoc snorted but didn’t care to elaborate or even defend himself.

He put out his cigarette almost mournfully on an ashtray in the lobby before swooping over to an open door on the far end. “Right, follow me, doll. Shooting range is right this way.”

“A shooting range…” she breathed out as she followed him down a long hallway. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Dunno why you would be after all you’ve seen here,” he said with a playful smirk.

She threw a small smile back at him. “True. You guys don’t exactly do normal.”

“Wot is normal, really, but a consensus of one great reality?” he mused. “The only trouble is that there isn't a single universal experience outside of death. So something normal for one person could be completely shocking to someone else.”

Anna rose an eyebrow. “Most music studios don’t have shooting ranges, dude.”

“And most music studios produce complete shit.”

The two of them reached a large room dimly lit by flickering rails on the ceiling. The back half was divided into separate booths overlooking bullet hole-ridden dividers marked at different intervals.

2-D and Noodle were in the middle of setting up the rifle stands when they came in, but the two soon abandoned the project once they saw her.

“'ey, Anna!”

“Anna-san! _Konbanwa!_ ”

“What’s up, guys? How’ve you been?” she asked, giving them each a quick hug in turn.

Right as Noodle tried to explain how she had bested the rest of the band members in a heated match of _Street Fighter_ , 2-D fumbled, “Oh yeah, my birfday’s comin’ up. Thought you might wanna know, y’know, in case you wanna give me somefink.”

Anna drew out a small envelope from her purse and handed it to a delighted 2-D with a small smile. “How old are you gonna be anyway?” she asked as he excitedly thumbed through the bills stuffed inside.

“Oh, uh, I’m turnin’ twen'y-one on the twen'y-third.”

Anna blinked. “Wait, dude, you’re _younger_ than me?”

2-D squinted down at her. “Wait, ‘ow old are you?” he asked just a few centimeters from her face.

Her eyes darted away. “T-Twenty-two," she stammered.

Even though she considered 2-D to be one of her best friends, she couldn’t deny that she also thought he was an extremely attractive man. There were moments when they hung out where she had caught herself checking him out, but the impulse to do anything about it lasted only as long as he remained spaced-out.

“No way!” He straightened up again, and Anna blew out a shaky breath of relief. “I pegged you as, like, eighteen, at the very least!”

“Dude, I’ve talked to you about being in college before,” she said, hiding an amused smile behind a hand. Usually, it irritated her when people guessed she was younger than she was, but this was 2-D. No matter how many mistakes he made, she just couldn’t stay mad at him for long. She always thought there was something a bit child-like in the way he acted, and, well….

Murdoc clapped a hand on Anna’s shoulder, making her jolt.

“Right! We best get started before we lose any more daylight." He gave her shoulder an oddly possessive squeeze that didn’t match the casual smile on his face.

Before either Noodle or 2-D could protest, Murdoc steered Anna to the furthest end of the room.

“Dude, what the hell is your problem?” she asked, more exasperated than irritated as she jerked out of his hold. “I didn’t even wish 2-D a proper happy birthday yet.”

“You gave him a gift,” he scoffed. “That should be enough.”

Anna figured any further arguments would be useless, and instead frowned down at the guns before her. Several different models sat parallel to one another on top of a beat-up foldable table. Each one gleamed with such a solid sense of purpose that she found it intimidating to even reach out for one.

Still...if she wanted to learn….

Her eyebrows shot up as she grabbed a black one right in the middle of the row. “It’s heavier than I thought it would be.”

“Yeah, well, get used to the weight, love. Guns ain’t as light as they look in movies,” he said. “Lemme show you how t' load it.”

Murdoc was surprisingly thorough in teaching her the basics, even taking the time to describe what to do should worse come to worst. He breezed through each lesson with all his usual impatience, but Anna found herself able to keep up with him all the same. She did wish he would explain things a bit more clearly, though.

After making her load each gun on the table, he stomped on a pedal near the booth then took a few steps back, folding his arms over one another. A deafening alarm blared in the area beyond the booths before several targets swung up from behind the dividers. They collapsed in on themselves every few seconds or so, giving her different distances to choose from each time.

“Hey…” she began as she raised the weapon towards the targets. 

“Don’t lock yer elbows.”

Anna let her arms go slack. “Where’s Russ?”

Murdoc shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

_When he tried to goad Russ into joining them earlier, the big man had refused so vehemently that it threw him off._

_"Wot's your problem, man?" Murdoc had whined. "Surely you'd be in your element in the shooting range, yeah?"_

_Russel's shoulders bunched up, like they always did when he was about to punch someone. "The hell you mean by dat?" he growled._

_"Well, hip-hop jack-of-all-trades like yerself.... Surely you grew up in the hood?"_

_Russ scowled back at him. "Man, I ain't never touched no gun before, 'n I ain't ever gonna."_

_Before he could walk away, Murdoc blurted out, "Why not?"_

_He whirled on him, and Murdoc instinctively flinched away. No way he was going to get his nose broken another time for a question as stupid as that._

_Russel looked over his cowering frame then blew out a weary sigh. "The spirits possessin' me..." he began, slow and reluctant. "They were all my friends in high school."_

_Murdoc lowered his arms from his face. He wasn't going to hit him?_

_"Shit, mate," he breathed out, mostly relieved that Russ had calmed down. "Really?"_

_"Yeah. Memory's still fresh 'n everythang. It was gangbangers, man. They came 'round the corner all wearin' red hoods 'n shit 'n just...fired at us."_

_And suddenly, he was there again, helpless, clueless as the car windows rolled down and the first barrel poked through. Bullets rained around him, and his friends all crumpled one after the other. Death itself watched on, impassive, cold, unfeeling as always._

_It was only after the gunfire stopped did Death look him right in the eye._

_A cold hand clamped onto his shoulder, and_ _Russel smacked it away with a sharp cry, nearly tripping over himself to get away._

_"Hey, hey, hey, man! It's awright! It's just me!" Murdoc said, raising both hands in defense. He knew better than to mess with him during a panic attack._

_Russel gulped down a few shuddering breaths as he glared over at him. His irritation with Murdoc acted as the perfect anchor back to himself, and, soon enough, he managed to steady his breathing well enough to think clearly again._

_Murdoc scratched the back of his head. "Er, look, mate, why don't you, uh.... Why don't you go buy Dents a cake 'r somethin', yeah? You don't have to be here for this if you don't want to."_

_"But...." Russel swallowed back the thick layer of fear that had built up in his throat. "But what about 'D?"_

_"I'll just tell him you'd rather set up the party." He waved him away. "Now go on, then. Buy yer fat arse a whole cake all to yerself while yer at it."_

_Russel snorted a little as he turned towards the garage. "Fuck you, Muds," he grumbled instead of thanking him. There was a small amused note in his voice nonetheless._

_"Yeah, yeah," Murdoc said. "I hate you too, Hobbs."_

"Murdoc?" Anna's voice called out through the haze.

He quickly shook the memory away.

“Uh, he's out getting stuff for 2-D," he finally replied.

“Oh.”

Anna held her breath as she lined her shot through the sight on top.

Her first shot was far too low. By zombie standards, anyway. A shot clear through the chest would probably kill a normal person.

“I told you t’ take a breath as soon as you take a shot,” Murdoc grumbled, stepping towards her. “And stop locking yer elbows already.”

Anna stiffened when he moved up against her, but all he did was push the bends of her elbows down impatiently before stepping away again.

There was something strange about the fleeting nature of it all. Normally, Murdoc wouldn’t hesitate to use this as an opportunity to mess with her. In fact, she had almost counted on it, dressing up like this.

Now he seemed uncharacteristically averse to the idea. His touches were light. Shy, almost.

But she knew for a fact that if Murdoc Niccals was anything, he was definitely not _shy_. Could it be he—

“I said stop locking yer damn elbows."

Right as he moved to push them down again, Anna turned to look back at him. Her lips brushed against his cheek in the motion.

He tensed against her, eyes falling helplessly to her mouth before he withdrew.

It was enough. She knew. Knew because the same worrisome memory flashed through her mind every now and then. Knew the inner panic and confusion all too well.

She knew, but still did not understand it. But she would not dare ask him what he thought about that night in the pub. Not if she wanted the moment to remain sacred.

Murdoc dug a box of cigarettes from his pocket, fumbling for a new fag to light. He half-expected Anna to nag him about it, hoping she would kill the mood, but she seemed just as shaken as he felt.

Much to both his disdain and secret pleasure, he could see her ears redden just a little.

Anna drew in a sharp breath then took another shot as she blew out again. The bullet landed right in the middle of the target’s face just as it began to shudder back down again.

Murdoc grinned. “There we go. Keep hitting that sweet spot, love.”

Her face grew warmer as she took another shot. It grazed a target's shoulder, but hit little else.

“Do you have to word it like that?” she grumbled.

“Why? You getting all hot 'n bothered?”

His long tongue unfurled right as she turned to glare at him. Her frown immediately broke with a snort as she turned back to the targets.

“No,” she lied. “Just bothered.”

But not by his presence, he noticed.

Murdoc offered small bits of advice every now and then, but said nothing else otherwise. No praise, but no gripes either. Anna figured she must be doing quite well, then.

Noodle and 2-D’s chattering blended with the sound of gunfire, but it all came to a crescendo once Anna finished her third clip.

She exchanged a bewildered glance with Murdoc, but he seemed just as confused as she was.

Noodle then shuffled up to the both of them with a puffy pout on her cheeks.

“Murdoc-san! Switch!” she demanded.

His eyes flickered to a startled Anna for a second before darting back down to her. “Wot? Why?”

“ _Too-cheewa hetakuso da yo!”_ Noodle whined as she pulled on Anna's cardigan. _“Jyuuo zenzen hanataenaishi!”_

“Oh yeah? That bad, huh?” Murdoc had no idea what she was even saying, but he was a very good actor and he got the gist of it anyway.

Noodle’s cheeks puffed out again as she nodded.

Anna hid a small laugh behind her hand. “Okay. We can switch.”

Murdoc bristled. “Wha—?! But I-I-I’m not done teaching you yet!”

Jesus, this whole studio was just full of children.

“Dude, you haven’t said anything to me the past few minutes. And anyway, I thought handguns were just a back-up plan in case things got really bad.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

Noodle tugged at Anna’s hand insistently. “ _Hayaku!_ ”

“Okay, okay,” she relented, smiling down all the while.

Murdoc stiffened when she smacked him lightly in the chest as she passed. “Thanks for the lesson, dude," she said. "You’re a pretty good teacher.”

A crooked grin cracked across his face as he added, “Stay a while after ‘n I can teach you a few more things, if y’know wot I mean.”

She threw him a scandalized frown over her shoulder that was soon covered by 2-D’s lanky form stepping in front of him.

“‘ello, Murdoc!” he greeted with a dopey smile. He was none the wiser, as usual.

Murdoc gave a disgusted sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Wipe that stupid grin off yer face and get over here already….”

* * *

Noodle was a more visual teacher than Murdoc, but Anna understood her directions all the same. Guns weren’t exactly complex machines, despite what their history would have her think.

Shooting a rifle was far easier than shooting a handgun, too. Of course, the scope helped immensely with precision aiming, and the stand helped to absorb the initial recoil of each shot.

She spared a sympathetic glance over at 2-D as Murdoc continued to yell at him before going back to her own practice with Noodle.

Just how bad _were_ 2-D’s eyes if he was a terrible shot even with the help of a scope anyway?

The sound of several thundering steps approaching the room made everyone pause.

Russel skidded into the room, squeezing a now smushed cake box in one hand. “Zombies!” he gasped then bent over to catch his breath.

Anna's eyes immediately flickered over to Murdoc. Was her luck seriously _that_ bad?

He threw her a crooked grin, oblivious. “Perfect timing! Now you can show off everything I taught ya!”

“Wha’ about me?” 2-D asked, pointing at himself. His dark eyes sparkled with a very palpable excitement, but Murdoc just gave him an unimpressed once-over.

“Psh, stick to the scythes, Dents. You won’t hit jack shit with _your_ eyes.”

2-D deflated, but none of them had any time to try and cheer him up. The most Anna could do was cast him a sympathetic glance as Noodle urged her to pack the rifles up.

The cake box laid discarded on the floor as Russel handed out scythes stuffed inside a locker in the corner of the room.

Murdoc balanced the handle of his scythe over his shoulder as he pocketed a few handguns into holsters strapped to his sides, whistling a shrill tune to himself.

2-D took a few test swings of his scythe, reaping the air where he went. The weapon was just as tall as he was, but he didn’t seem to have any trouble maneuvering it around.

Noodle toddled out of the room hefting a large case in both chubby hands without another thought to any of them.

Anna slowed as Murdoc strolled past her.

“Good luck!”

The words tumbled out of her before she could stop them.

Murdoc looked over at her, taken aback for a moment before cracking another smile at her.

“The hell’re you worried about? We’ve dealt with these sodding corpses countless times. This time won’t be much different,” he said as he ruffled her hair. She smacked his hand away, but couldn't deny that she was a bit pleased by the attention.

“Right…” she whispered as she turned to follow Noodle.

Anna hefted the case up with a grunt. “See you guys later,” she called over her shoulder.

“Yeah. Bye, girl,” Russel said as he led the three of them in the opposite direction.

2-D kept waving back at her until Murdoc smacked him upside the head.

“C’mon, man. Stop gawkin’ at pretty girls when we got shit t' do,” he scolded.

2-D squinted down at him. “Y’fink she’s pretty too?”

Murdoc's eyes darted back to her retreating figure, watched as she gave Noodle a bright smile as they joked around with one another.

"Eh..." he grumbled, turning to hide his red face. "She's awright...."

* * *

Another one down, then another. Every time Anna swiveled the scope, there were more and more of them—an endless nightmare of shuffling corpses rising out of their weathered graves.

For every cartridge fired, she released a slow breath, and, for every pull of the bolt, she took one in. It was oddly calming, in a morbid way.

She didn’t know how long they had been at it or how many zombies she had taken out. In fact, she hadn’t even noticed how much their numbers had dwindled until she realized that there were more fallen bodies than moving figures.

Anna moved the scope around to check on the rest of the band members. Russel and 2-D ambled toward each other, cutting through any zombie still shambling around. They seemed alright, albeit exhausted.

She took out a tall zombie further to their right before she found Murdoc a few feet away.

He sunk his scythe into a fallen corpse’s head, leaving the weapon stuck in its skull as he approached the two of them. Anna had no idea what he was saying, but, from the almost grandiose way he spread his arms out, he was probably bragging about how many zombies he had taken out. Typical.

2-D and Russel’s weary scowls quickly morphed into expressions of pure horror.

Anna frowned as she followed 2-D’s shocked pointing, only to catch Murdoc frantically trying to wrestle a zombie off of him.

“ _Shit._ ”

“Murdoc-san!” Noodle cried out.

“I got it,” Anna mumbled. She scrambled to get a good shot, but Murdoc kept getting in the way. With every passing second, her panicked frustration escalated.

She stretched her trigger finger to stop it from shaking so badly, but she couldn’t calm herself down enough, not with the boys’ cries floating up through the window to her.

 _Shit, shit,_ SHIT.

Anna’s eyes gleamed when Murdoc managed to seize the thing by the throat and pull its snapping jaws just far enough for her to take the shot.

She fired in that instant.

His hold slipped on the zombie’s ooze, and it lurched forward once more. Murdoc tripped in his hurry to get away, and—

His sharp cry of pain rattled her soul.

No….

No, no, no, _no, no_ —

Desperation pounded in her ears as Anna immediately bolted for the stairs.

Noodle called out her name, but she was already gone. Curious, she peered into her own scope, only to find the zombie on the ground and Murdoc swearing loudly and gratuitously all over the place.

She breathed out a sigh of relief before abandoning her post altogether to try and call Anna back.

Anna banged her elbow painfully against the railing as she flew down the stairs to the lobby. The pain didn’t even register. All she had to do was make it to him. Make sure he was alright.

Murdoc had to be alright. He had to.

Anna barreled right into him halfway down the rock spire that led to the cemetery.

He let out a pained cry as he lost his balance and swung back into the rock behind him. There was nothing to grab onto but her small frame, so he clutched her to him as he toppled to the ground.

Murdoc sat there for one bewildered moment before he pulled Anna off of him.

“Wot the hell’re you—”

The tears caught in the corners of her eyes fell as she stared up at him.

Murdoc blinked. What...What the hell was she _crying_ for?

“Murdoc!” His name tore out of her throat.

He was alive.

He was _alive_.

“You’re okay!” she sobbed as she fell against his chest in relief. His breathing was ragged and confused, but God, she had never heard a more wonderful sound in all her life.

“Get the hell off'a me,” he growled, shoving her away with one arm. The other remained limp and useless, but at least he didn't feel any pain.

Anna covered her gasp with her hands. “Your shoulder!”

Murdoc glanced down and was not at all surprised to see blood trickling down the hot red slash along his left shoulder.

“Yeah,” he grunted, trying to push himself up and failing. “You fucking shot me.”

Her tears spilled as fast as her apologies, but neither helped to calm her down.

Murdoc frowned down at her, the discomfort evident on his face.

How many people could he say ever cried for him? He knew plenty of people who cried _because_ of him, sure. He was a scoundrel who took and took and took, he lied to them, he betrayed them, blah, blah, fucking blah. All the blame was shoved onto him when the other party was just as guilty as he was. He had no sympathy for any of those cretins. Their tears were mere fodder for their own wounded pride.

Not a single person he knew throughout his entire life cried because they were glad to see him or because he was hurt or even because they cared about him at all.

But Anna….

He reached out to her, tilting her head up to face him. She didn’t flinch away from the blood on his hands, not even when he brushed his thumb against her cheek and left a mark.

“Wot the hell’re you crying for?” he mumbled. “Satan’s sake, you’re a piece of fucking work.”

Didn’t she realize what she had just done for him?

2-D and Noodle suddenly came running towards them from opposite directions, startling the both of them and each other in their rush.

They gawked down at them, first at Murdoc’s bleeding shoulder, then at Anna’s splotchy, tear-stained face.

2-D tugged at his hair and ran around in circles like a chicken with its head cut off.

“Wha’ do we do?!” he shrieked. “‘e’s bleedin’! Shit, we gotta get some plasters! Noodle! Where do we keep the plasters?!”

“ _Chi ga ooi ja ne?"_

“I don’ know wha’ yer on about! I’m sorry!”

“ _Too-chee!_ _Hayaku! Bandowa toirede aru!”_

“Wha’?!”

“For fuck’s sake!” Murdoc yelled, making the both of them jump. “The first-aid kit’s in the bathroom, you fucking nitwits! Go get it before I bleed out!”

They nearly tripped over themselves as they scrabbled back up the spire to go get what he needed.

Anna wiped at her face impatiently then pushed herself to her feet. “Here." She held a hand out to him. "Let me help you.”

“‘m fine,” he insisted, slapping her hand away.

His knees buckled the moment he stood up, and Anna caught him before he could fall over.

“Murdoc—”

“I said I'm _fine_.” He wobbled a little as he shoved her away, but managed to stay upright.

Anna’s gaze fell. “...I’m sorry, Murdoc….”

He kept his eyes fixed ahead as they slowly trudged back up the spire. “Shut up already," he snapped. "And stop sniveling. It’s pissing me off.”

It was only a stupid graze. He didn't even feel anything. Besides, if she hadn't taken the shot when she had, he'd be....

Anna stared at the ground. Murdoc had every right to be angry with her but that didn’t make it hurt any less. She knew she should have left the zombie to Noodle, knew how dangerous the whole situation was, and yet….

She wrapped her arms around herself and sniffled.

What did she think she could do?

Murdoc grimaced down at her again. Why the hell was she still crying? She had no reason to be this upset, for Hell's sake.

He let out an exasperated sigh. This bird was such a fucking _pain_.

“Consider yer debt paid.”

Anna gaped up at him with such an incredulous look on her face that it made him scowl. 

“Didn’t you hear me?" he snapped. "I said—”

“I heard you,” she cut in. She wiped at the stupid tears dripping down her face, but it seemed they wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

“Then why the hell’re you—”

“I...." She sucked in a shuddering breath. "I could’ve killed you, Murdoc....”

Satan, she really _was_ dense as a brick.

“Oh, for the love of…!” He wiped a hand over his face. “I would’ve been bitten if you hadn’t shot the damn thing!”

Anna blinked. She had...saved him?

“So plug up the waterworks already," he sighed as he held open the front doors of the studio for her. "It’s creeping me out.”

This was the closest Murdoc would let himself get to a “thank you”, she supposed.

A small smile broke out on her face. It would have to do.

“Besides," he added suddenly, "I've had worse."

Anna frowned up at him, but he just tapped his nose.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice this entire time, love." He smirked down at her. "I know I’m a handsome devil, but love can only make you so blind to these kinds of things.”

The response was so ridiculously unexpected that Anna couldn’t help but burst out laughing. The sound was like spilled sunshine—sudden and bright and warm. It was the warmth of her laugh that pulled him nearer, if only to capture the lingering embers for his own.

Anna weakly punched his chest, halting him in his tracks.

“Shut up…" she giggled as she grinned up at him. "You’re so dumb.”

Murdoc blinked like he was snapping out of a particularly nice dream. All the blood loss must've finally got to his head.

Instead of offering another quip for her to dissect, he simply moved away to lean against the wall.

Before Anna could ask if he was okay, 2-D and Noodle clambered back down the hallway.

“‘ere!” 2-D yelled as he practically flung the first-aid kit into her hands. “We got all the plasters ‘n fings we could find!”

Anna smiled appreciatively at them both. “Thanks, du—”

“I also threw in my painkillahs just in case!” 2-D huffed, looking oddly proud of himself.

Murdoc’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, nice one!”

Anna plucked the bottle out and pressed it to 2-D's unwilling chest. “He doesn’t need your meds, man. He’ll be fine without them.”

“Wha—Yeah, I do! I’m in agony over here!” Murdoc slumped against her for dramatic emphasis, but Anna just leaned away until he had no choice but to stumble forward to stay upright.

“You guys should go and check if Russ is okay,” Anna suggested. "I got this."

Noodle patted Murdoc's hand sympathetically before she strolled out of the building, 2-D's scythe in tow.

2-D fumbled his fingers together. “You sure?”

Anna glanced at Murdoc's shoulder. The wound looked more like a gnarly scrape than a bullet wound. Painful, sure, but treatable.

“Yeah, I'm sure," she said, turning back to him. "It’s my fault he got hurt in the first place. I should be the one to tend to him.”

He tilted his head and looked as if he were about to ask more questions, but one look at Murdoc's fierce glare behind her scattered all those thoughts away. Slow as he could be, he knew when he wasn't wanted around.

“Well, if you say so!" His voice came out shrill as he walked past them, shoulders bunched up to anticipate any unwarranted smacks to his head.

Right before he shut the door again, he dared to say, “Take good care’a him, Anna! ‘e’s the only bassist we got!”

“Wot are you, my mother?” Murdoc scoffed, but the taunt fell on deaf ears as 2-D ducked away.

Anna snorted as she put the kit down on a nearby table. The surface rested so low to the ground that it practically kissed the floor. “C’mon, dude, cut him some slack. It’s his birthday."

“It’s not his _actual_  birthday today,” he grumbled as he plopped next to her.

The jolt sent a wave of pain up his arm, and he winced. Dammit, of course the pain had to kick in when he didn't have any meds to distract him from it. Stupid bird. The hell was she thinking in refusing to give him painkillers?

Anna wiped the blood dripping down his arm, her hold light and clinical as she worked.

Murdoc rested his head on a hand and pouted at the front door. He seemed almost uninterested now that he didn't have an audience to work up.

 _What a baby,_ she thought as she dabbed a clean towel in rubbing alcohol.

Murdoc drew his hand back when she tried to make a grab for it.

"Wot the hell d'you think yer doing?" he snapped, looking more alarmed than anything.

Anna left her hand open on top of her lap. “This is gonna sting. I just want you to be prepared for that."

“As if that shit’s gonna—OW!”

He clasped her hand the moment she pressed the soaked cloth to his wound.

Anna’s smirk was just further salt sprinkled in.

“Don’t look so smug,” he grumbled through clenched teeth. “I was just...surprised, awright?”

“Yeah, yeah….”

“I was!” he insisted. He had yet to loosen his grip on her hand, even when it was clear she was done.

Anna threw him an amused glance as she pulled her hand out of his. The final brush of her smooth fingertips along his calloused ones made his hand twitch, but she didn't seem to notice.

As soon as she finished taping the gauze together, the front door cracked open once more, revealing a wary Russ.

“Uh, we’re burnin’ the bodies now. We could use yo’ help."

He took one glance at Anna's hand on Murdoc's chest and rose an eyebrow. She instantly drew it away, embarrassed.

"...If yo' not busy, anyway," Russel added haltingly.

"No!" Anna insisted, pushing herself to her feet. "Not busy! I, uh, just finished! I can help you guys now."

Murdoc let out the fakest groan she had ever heard. "Aw haw.... Mate, I don't think I can.... My shoulder's aching something  _awful_."

Russel looked as unimpressed as ever but didn’t seem at all surprised by his laziness. He simply turned to leave, expecting Anna to follow whenever she was ready.

Anna struggled out of her cardigan and hung it up on a coat rack by the door. There was no way she would muck it up any further.

Murdoc let out an appreciative whistle behind her.

When she scowled back at him, he simply tossed her a leering wink.

Anna slammed the door behind her, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth nonetheless.

Russel frowned at her once she managed to catch up, and, at first, she thought he was going to lecture her about Murdoc again.

“Why d’you got blood on yo’ face?” he asked instead.

No, this was far worse.

Her face grew even warmer as she tried to wipe the mark away.

“...No reason.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a line from the English version of "Latin Simone (¿Que Pasa Contigo?)". The song is pretty melodramatic, which I think fits with the last few scenes tbh. I like me some melodrama, I'm sorry.
> 
> I also just realized that I've never provided translations for the things Noodle says (pretty late, I know, lol). I know most of her lines have been pretty basic so far, or you can get the gist of what she says based on other people's responses to her, but if you guys want me to provide any rough translations, just let me know so I can adjust the end notes of all the chapters. Also, let me know if I have any grammatical errors in my romanization of her lines, too. I took three years of Japanese in high school, but I'm nowhere near fluent in it.
> 
> To make up for this update being late, I'm going to upload another chapter soon, too! Hope you all can wait until then!


	16. Paranoid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, my dudes. Sorry I took so long to finish this chapter! I've been very busy lately, and I just haven't been able to find much time to write.
> 
> Anyway, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Tara, who was kind enough to gift me a $15 Ko-fi. Thank you very much! I'm so grateful for that.

****Anna was relieved to find the lights all off when she got back home. It didn’t matter if her aunt was asleep or out. What mattered was the fact that she didn’t have to lie about where she’d been doing all this time.

Cleaning up after the whole zombie uprising took way longer than she anticipated, and, by the time they were all done, it was already way past ten. Coupled with however long it took for her to take a shower there and to help sort through the edible bits of 2-D’s smashed birthday cake for their shoddily put-together party, and Anna only managed to get back sometime after one.

The day had been exhausting and disgusting and strange all at once, and yet, it was just another note in Gorillaz’ books to tick off and forget about. Of course, Murdoc played up his injury to the point where 2-D willingly waited on him hand and foot, but none of the others were fooled. It soon became apparent that, even if he was in a bit of pain, Murdoc was perfectly capable of doing every little task he was having 2-D do for him. He just didn’t want to get off his ass and do it.

That didn’t stop Anna from feeling bad about being the cause of it all every time her eyes fell to his bandages, though.

She practically collapsed into bed, willing for sleep to swarm her.

Her phone belted out its snappy ringtone in the next second.

_Goddammit, if it’s who I think it is…._

Anna flopped over with a groan and scrabbled for her phone perched just on the edge of her nightstand. It took a few empty grabs before it finally slipped into her grasp.

“Hello?”

“ _Hey there, doll.”_

Anna wiped a hand over her eyes. “Murdoc, I was about to sleep.”

_“Oh? This early? Wot are you, fifty years old?”_

“It’s almost two in the morning.”

“ _My point still stands._ ”

She sighed as she flopped over again. “Why’re you calling? You okay, dude? Your shoulder’s not hurting you too much?”

_“It hurt like a total bitch, but then 2-D handed me some’a his painkillers, 'n I’ve been feeling…. Well, I feel like I’m floating above myself, y'know? It’s great.”_

“Oh my God, are you high right now?”

 _“Eh, I’ve been higher, babe. I only took enough to stave off the pain, not turn into some dribbling idiot like Dents._ ” Murdoc gave a content sigh. _“Wouldn’t be in nearly as good of a mood without those pills’a his, though…. He’s a good lad.”_

Anna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Dude, I told you not to take his meds.”

“ _Nnnno, you didn’t. You just said I don’t need ‘em._ ”

“Same difference.”

Murdoc hummed, and she heard him shift around. “ _So…_ ” he began again, his voice sounding far-off. “ _Wot’re you wearing right now, doll?”_

Her face immediately bloomed red. “Pajamas,” she spat.

 _“Oh? Wot kind? Are they soft?”_ He then let out a giggle so happy-go-lucky that Anna pulled her phone away to stare at it in disbelief.

There was no way Murdoc Niccals, of all people,  _giggled_. Cackle, yes. Chortle, definitely. But _giggle?_  It was like he was a little kid.

 _“I like soft things,_ ” he went on. _“Yer pretty soft.”_

Anna sputtered out an incredulous laugh. “Dude, I’ve never heard you like this. You sure you’re not high off your ass right now?”

 _"Oh, hang on._   _Gotta stretch before my leg falls asleep."_

Murdoc's sleepy groan sounded so overtly sexual that Anna immediately snapped to attention.

She bit her lip. Was he doing this on purpose?

“ _Mmmm, better now,”_ the oblivious idiot crooned. _“Wot were you saying?"_

"I...I asked if you were high."

 _"Huh? Oh...nope._ _Told you I’ve had worse trips ‘n this.”_

“Oh yeah?” she challenged, if only to shake off her lewder thoughts. “L-Like what?”

And so he told her. He would go off on another totally unrelated tangent from time to time, but that didn’t make his stories any less entertaining or hard to follow. Much as she hated to admit, she was starting to like this nicer, albeit more scatterbrained Murdoc. He was way more open in this state, and admittedly, she found his light laughs and giggles over nothing to be stupidly adorable.

She only wished he didn’t have to be high to be like this.

Their meandering conversation was cut short when Anna heard a sharp rap on her door.

“Anna, what're you still doing up? It’s past four a.m. You need to get some sleep," her aunt's voice croaked from behind the door.

“Oh shit. Hold on, dude.”

“ _Mmkay._ ”

Anna put her hand over the receiver and said, “Sorry, Aunt Nora! I’ll go to sleep soon.”

“ _Now_ would be preferable.”

She knew better than to argue, especially at four in the morning.

“Okay! Let me just say bye first.”

Nora squinted at her niece’s closed room door. “Who are you talking to, anyway?”

“Uh, no one! Just a friend!” came Anna’s muffled reply.

“Well, wrap it up, okay?” her aunt sighed. “I’m trying to sleep here.”

Anna waited for her aunt to shuffle back to her room before uncovering the receiver once more.

“ _Who was that?”_ Murdoc asked.

“Huh? That was just my aunt. But, um, we should get to sleep, dude. I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

_“No, it’s fine. I like talking t’ you.”_

She snorted. “Dude, get some rest. Rest is important in the healing process, you know.”

“ _Aw...._ _B_ _ut I don’t feel like it,”_ he whined.

Anna held in the urge to sigh. “Murdoc, go to sleep.”

“ _Naaaah._ ”

“Murdoc Niccals, I swear to God, when I head over there tomorrow, I’m gonna slap you for being so dumb.”

“ _Oooooh, kinky.”_

Anna laughed despite herself. “Shut up. Good night, dude.”

“ _Mhm…._ ”

She flipped her phone shut then tucked it underneath her pillow with a pleased smile.

Sleep gently washed over her then, careful to leave that peaceful smile glowing on her face.

* * *

“I’ll see you later, Aunt Nora,” Anna said as she pulled on her beat-up sneakers. She had meant to wake up earlier than one in the afternoon, but Murdoc’s stupid call messed up her normal sleep schedule.

Nora shot up from her seat. “Whoa, what’s the rush? At least have some breakfast before you leave!” she insisted, already heading over to the half-full coffee pot.

“No, I’m late! I said I’d be there by twelve!” Anna yelled as she grabbed her car keys off a hook by the door. “I’ll just pick up something at McDonald's!”

Before she could duck outside, her aunt called her name. The worried quaver in her voice made her look back.

“Wh-Where...Where are you going again?” Nora asked with a poor attempt at a casual smile. She mentally cursed herself for sounding like a nag, but she had to know.

Truthfully, something had been bothering her ever since she fired Harry. In a desperate attempt to save face, Harry blurted out the usual crap excuses. He didn’t mean to. He was drunk. This was all a misunderstanding, a horrible mistake. He was one of the best editors this dinky little magazine had ever had, and she had to know that.

All of that was worthless in comparison to what he had done to her niece, and she had made that very clear as she fired him on the spot.

It was only then he became truly unhinged. He raved on and on about how that second interview with Gorillaz was actually conducted by Anna, not him, how she had begged and begged for him to keep it a secret, and how, despite all her aunt’s rightful warnings, she was now going out with Murdoc Niccals behind everyone’s backs.

At the time, it just seemed like frenzied nonsense. But with Anna constantly pulling the interns aside to have private conversations away from her and with her niece stressing over her clothes for a supposedly normal hang-out yesterday, she couldn’t help but think that maybe there might be some truth to the matter.

Her niece was never the type to dress up unless she had good reason. Nora had been pretty sure it was because Anna was actually going to meet someone she was interested in. Of course, throwing on a cardigan and tying her hair up might not be that big a deal for some, but for Anna, it was pretty huge.

It wasn’t as if her niece didn’t care about her appearance. She just preferred comfort over style, to blend in instead of standing out.

There was also the matter of that mysterious “friend” of hers she talked with well into the early hours of the morning.

Nora wasn’t stupid. All signs pointed to the idea that Anna was seeing someone. Was it because she was too shy to talk about it with her aunt? Or was Harry right and Anna was actually seeing Murdoc despite all her warnings?

Anna’s gaze dropping to the ground only reinforced her worry. “Just...out,” she mumbled.

“‘Out’?” Nora repeated, sounding harsher than she intended. “Out with who? Tell me, are you….”

She forced herself to choke the words back, but it was too late.

“Am I what?” Anna asked with an impatient frown.

Nora glanced down at her niece’s outfit. An open plaid shirt hung over a large _Black Sabbath_ T-shirt and torn jeans. Her usual attire.

“Nothing," her aunt sighed. "Just...be safe, okay?”

“Yeah...okay….”

“I love you.”

Anna smiled a little over her shoulder. “Love you too, Aunt Nora.”

When the door shut behind her, Nora’s smile fell.

What was she thinking? There was no way Anna would ever fall for someone like Murdoc Niccals. She was too innocent, too removed from the depraved world he sank himself into.

He was perverted lunatic, but even he had to have some standards, right? She was young and inexperienced and fragile. Still a kid in all the ways it mattered. There was no way he’d go after someone like her.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she knew the guy...right? She had only met him that one time.

Anna wouldn’t lie to her. She was too honest for her own good, really.

So why didn’t the nagging feeling in her gut fade away?

Nora dug out a cigarette from the box in her pocket with shaking fingers. Her lighter flicked once, twice, another time before the flame sparked before her eyes.

She watched it dance in the air, almost entranced by its petite simplicity.

There was just no way Harry could be right. No way at all….

* * *

“‘ey, Anna…” 2-D yawned as he opened the door for her.

She frowned up at him. “Hey, dude, are you okay?”

“‘m a bit tired. I woke up early t’ see if Murdoc wanted any more’a my painkillahs or if he needed my 'elp, but 'e jus’ threw somefink 'eavy at 'is door ‘n 'asn’t come out all day. Russ said we should jus’ leave ‘im alone, but I’m worried.” He fumbled his fingers together and sighed.

“Well, he’s gonna have to let _me_ in, at least," Anna said, pointing confidently at herself. "I’m the only one that can change his bandages.”

2-D slipped the first-aid kit off the desk in the lobby and handed it to her with an appreciative smile. “Fanks for this, Anna.”

“Yeah, no problemo.”

She started for the carpark, but was confused to find 2-D right at her heels.

"Uh...did you need something, dude?" she asked, peering up at him.

"Oh, uh, my room's this way, so...."

At her curious frown, his shoulders drooped and he asked, “Actually, y’mind if I go wif you? I...I jus' wanna make sure he doesn’ botha you while you fix ‘im up.”

She snorted. “Oh please. I can handle Murdoc.”

“You sure?”

“I’m stronger than I look, y'know.” Anna flexed her arms in such an exaggerated fashion that he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I don’ doubt that,” he said, an amused note caught in his voice.

“Good. It’d be insulting if you did,” she teased.

2-D split off when they finally reached the carpark. He wished her luck before disappearing into a door far to the right.

Anna warily glanced over at Murdoc’s Winnebago. The hulking van sat disheveled and riddled with bullet holes right next to her. In a way, it was very reminiscent of its owner right now.

She shook her head. _No, bad joke. Just go in, treat his wounds, then leave._

After taking a deep breath, she stiffly marched over and knocked on his door.

No answer.

She frowned then knocked a few more times. “Murdoc?" she called out, pressing her ear to the door. "You alive in there?”

A small _thud_ sounded from inside the Winnebago and she heard him swear to himself before he tromped over and opened the door.

He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sudden light.

Of course he had to be shirtless. He still wore the cargo pants he had on yesterday, too.

“Um...you okay, dude?” she asked, tilting her head. A dark red splotch poked through his bandages. The sight made her stomach wrench with guilt.

Murdoc brushed a hand through his ruffled bed hair. “I was until you woke me up,” he grumbled, stepping aside to let her in all the same.

“Sorry. You really should be up by now, though. It’s almost two.”

He scoffed. “Not my fault I stayed up until four in the morning….”

Anna frowned up at him as she plopped down on his couch. “Uh, yeah, it is. You’re the one that called me, not the other way around.”

He waved her away. “Technicalities….”

Somehow, he already had a bottle in his hand. Anna threw it a disapproving glance, so he took a long swig and stared her down out of a childish sense of spite. She looked as if she wanted to tell him off. In fact, he welcomed it. It'd be an entertaining way to start his day. The moment her eyes landed on his shoulder, however, he could see the words die on her lips.

“So...how are you feeling?” she asked, turning to the first-aid kit.

He shrugged to test out how much he was able to move his left arm. “Still bites a lil’,” he admitted as he set down the now empty bottle. “But I can move fine, at least.”

“That’s good.”

A weary silence hung above them like a fog. It was warm in his van, a little too warm for her liking. It wasn’t a stifling warmth by any means. No, it was more seductive than that. It was the kind that enticed you to stay just a little longer under the sheets, to fall back asleep and dream some more.

Anna tried to shake it off, but the haze would not leave her. She needed to focus on patching him up, not mourn her loss of sleep. Besides, she got a good nine hours in. There was no reason for her to be this tired.

Murdoc looked as if he wanted to head back to bed right after this, too, staring off into space like that. She snuck a few glances up at him as she unraveled his old bandages. Under the dim lighting, his tousled hair and distant gaze were quite attractive. It gave him a world-weary air, as if he were a philosopher contemplating life’s greatest mysteries.

Though, if she knew Murdoc at all, his head was probably full of poetry. Or porn. Or both at once. The thought made her want to laugh, but she settled for a small smile instead.

Once she finished uncovering his wound, however, her jaw dropped. What was once a rough graze was now just a mere scratch. The initial bullet wound hadn’t been that deep, sure, but one night was not nearly enough time for the skin to stitch back together like this.

“What the fuck?”

Murdoc blinked out of his self-induced haze. “Wot? Wot happened?” he asked, alarm ringing in his voice.

“Dude, your shoulder!”

He peeked down at it with a worried frown that soon settled into an unconcerned deadpan. “Oh...right. I’ve always healed pretty fast. Dunno why, but it’s convenient.”

Anna pouted. “Damn…. You drink and smoke like there's no tomorrow, but you’re still as healthy as ever. I can’t even eat too much junk food without feeling gross afterwards.”

“I’m not exactly the gold standard for healthy living, love.”

He let her grab his hand as she laughed. “Yeah, I guess not,” she agreed, patting his wound with an alcohol-soaked rag. His shoulder jumped a little at the sudden sting, but he stayed perfectly still otherwise.

“Where'd you learn this shit anyway?” he asked when she finally pulled away.

“Oh, uh, my mom’s a nurse. I was a pretty adventurous kid, so I always got a few bad scrapes now and again. I’m just going off how she treated those. I don’t even know if this is what I’m supposed to do, but, well, it looks like I did _something_ right.”

Anna paused for a moment then shook away the homesickness building in her chest with a small laugh.

A sudden prick of curiosity went through him then, and he decided to indulge it.

“Wot made you come over here?”

When she frowned up at him, he added, “To Essex, I mean. Surely L.A. is a hell of a lot more exciting than this shithole.”

Anna shrugged. “It’s more or less the same. Except there were way more Filipinos in my neighborhood in L.A. than here, but anyway….”

As she wrapped the new gauze around his shoulder, she explained, “Uh, so, most Filipina women I knew were either nurses or in business. My parents kept encouraging me to be a nurse, too, but I’m really bad at science and math. Like I barely scraped by those classes in high school, so I don’t know what the hell they were expecting. I love reading and writing, so I thought it made sense for me to be an English major, y’know? But my parents constantly got on my case about it, even after I graduated with a goddamn Bachelor’s degree and high praise from some of my professors. So all my hard work and my dream of being an author were basically worthless to them if I couldn’t make money off it right away.”

She tore at the medical tape with more force than necessary. “When I told my aunt about it, she got hella mad at my mom. They talked on the phone for hours until she finally offered me a job at her music magazine here as a start. And, well, I’m glad she did. I’m glad I came here.”

_I’m glad you listened to me._

Anna secured the last bit of tape, letting her hand slide down his chest to make sure it stayed. It took every ounce of his self-control not to shudder.

Her touch was light as rain, a ghosting warmth that lingered right over his heart. Could she feel his erratic heartbeat under her palm, her delicate, little fingertips? He hoped to Satan she couldn’t. Stupid bird might get the wrong idea.

Anna felt Murdoc’s eyes on her, heavy in their curiosity, and heavier still on her lips. His own heartbeat mirrored her own, and yet, he did not act on it like he normally would. She almost wished he did.

“Um…” she breathed out, snapping herself out of it and moving away. The place where her hand had been felt cold without her. “Just, uh, remember to take some ibuprofen if it still hurts, but not too much at one time. You should be healed by tomorrow, at this rate.”

She put away the medical tape and the gauze back into the case, snapping the clips shut one by one. He didn’t say anything, not even when she continued to hesitate next to him. Not a single tease or word or sound. His silence should have been suffocating, but it wasn’t. It settled in her chest and warmed her like a hearth.

How could a silence feel warm? It wasn’t comfortable, not exactly, but it wasn’t overbearing, either.

Then Anna recognized it.

This was a confirmation.

She dared look over at him once more. “Murdoc?” she whispered.

His glassy eyes snapped away from her mouth and he ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, just…thinking about all the songs I wanna record today.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Anna had no idea where her sudden courage sprouted from, and it nearly withered when Murdoc threw her a startled look. Still, she refused to yield. There was no poetry in what she wanted. It was simply a carnal truth, one she was sure he knew well.

The first-aid kit slid to the floor as she leaned closer to him.

Murdoc stared back at her, certain he must still be dreaming or on a drug trip. Or both. It would explain why his heartbeat was out of whack.

There was no way Anna would be so forward, no way she would ever admit to wanting him in any physical capacity.

There was no way a puny girl like her had any right looking so attractive right now.

Those excuses flew away when she cupped his face in her small hands and kissed him.

Her mouth was stiff, at first. Unsure, subdued, and terribly, painfully frightened.

After whatever took hold of him that fateful night in the pub, he’d been longing for the taste of her, the soft feel of her against him, the high she had brought him from just a mere brush of lips. The moment should have been inconsequential, meaningless, and yet….

He pushed against her, desperate for that mind-numbing pull to possess them once more.

Her kisses grew deeper, more fervent. Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, slid deliciously down to pull him closer to her. Her tongue, small, warm, and tentative, pried its way to his own. She was learning, he’d give her that.

He tugged her closer, nearly tearing at her shirt as his nails clawed for her warmth.

It wasn’t until she straddled him did he finally realize how hard he had grown.

No...this wasn’t at all like that kiss in the pub. That kiss was innocent, almost sacred in its odd purity.

This was something primal, something all too familiar and dirty and wonderful. Her hair rained down around them, cloaking them in a strawberry-scented shadow housing their dredged-up lust.

He bucked up when she scratched at his scalp. The strain in his pants rubbed against her, and she let out a sweet gasp against his mouth. Her hands fell to his shoulders to steady herself—

Murdoc cried out at the sudden pain lacing up his arm, and she flung back, startled.

“Oh shit, dude, I’m sorry!” she sputtered as he leaned away, teeth clenched. Her hands hovered over the bandages then flitted back once more to cover her face. “I’m sorry. That was so stupid. I’m—”

Anna felt a gentle hand curl her hair behind her ear and she looked up. Murdoc was uncharacteristically silent as he studied her face. Her accidental grip of his shoulders didn’t seem to have bothered him all that much. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he looked even more turned on than before.

“Murdoc…” she whispered as he leaned in once more. She had meant to apologize, meant to pull away, but once his lips took hers, all was lost.

He was rougher than before, biting her bottom lip, scratching up her back with his talons for nails. God, she never knew that pain could feel so damn _good_.

And then he was at her neck, pressing that bulge against her, making her squirm and gasp in ways she had never done before.

Murdoc shoved her back onto the couch and climbed over her. She pulled him to her, just as eager for her destruction as he. Their barriers, so well-kept before, were gone, smashed. It just wouldn’t do to have something as decent as modesty between them now.

Anna was mindful not to grab onto his shoulders as he planted his lips down her neck. She could not stand another disruption, would not tolerate it. This was a horrible, ravenous _need_ , and she wanted it to fill her whole.

His hand snaked under the hem of her shirt, traced that all-too-beautiful curve of her stomach.

She recoiled at first, unused to the delicious unfamiliarity of his rough fingers on her skin. A strange thrill raced up her spine as his admiring hand caressed her figure once more.

Their longing gasps and stifled groans filled the air, note by unholy note. It wasn’t until his tongue traced slowly down her neck that Anna broke the rhythm with a cry of his name.

He paused, his hand just underneath her bra, and glanced up at her. His lips moved away from her collarbone and he lifted himself up. When Anna realized he had stopped, she peered up at him, confused.

Murdoc stared down at her with such a raw intensity that she couldn’t help but bite her lip. This was that same predatory look he wore when he played his violin for that recording. No, she realized. When he played for _her_.

His dark eyes commanded her attention, pinning her to the spot and threatening to engulf her if she so much as moved.

Anna hated how much she craved him, how much she longed for that threat to finally come to fruition. She wanted him to eclipse her, to burn through every last bit of her sanity until they were nothing more than ravaged beasts.

God, she wanted...she _wanted_ him.

He grinned down at her, a sharp-edged blade piercing through to her soul.

“Oh yeah, that’s it.” His voice dripped desire. She wanted to drown in it. “A little louder now, darling.”

She arched up and let out another cry when he pushed himself against her.

Murdoc had to choke back a groan himself. “ _God_ , yes, just like that.”

His eyes ran hungrily over her face, admiring the undisguised lust shining in her eyes, how her jet black hair fanned out like a halo. She bit her kiss-swollen lips, but that didn’t stop them from trembling in glorious anticipation.

“Satan, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled, brushing a stray hair back.

Anna blinked, startled at how warm the compliment made her feel. But there was no time to challenge it, no time to question if he meant it or not. He laughed a little under his breath as he bent down to whisper in her ear:

“ _Scream my name for me, Anna._ ”

His hand soon slid under her bra and cupped her breast. Anna’s surprised gasp was soon muffled by his tongue playing with hers once more. This was too much to take in at once, and she moaned against him.

She threw her head back when his thumb brushed against her nipple, a small groan escaping her as he slowly circled around it.

Murdoc murmured soft reassurances against her throat that overwhelmed her almost as much as his hands on her. Anna had never felt so good before, nor so wanted. His praise felt like worship, and, with every pleasured groan she let spill from her lips, the more his words pattered against her skin like a welcome rain.

She dragged her nails down his back, slow and deep. A guttural moan cut off his compliments. It sounded just as wonderful against her neck.

Right as he sunk his teeth into one of the more sensitive parts of her shoulder, Anna heard a scuffling sound outside the Winnebago.

“M-Murdoc…” she sighed, weakly pushing against his chest.

Unfortunately, this only seemed to encourage him. “Mmm, babe, louder….”

She let out a squeaky cry as he roughly pressed himself against her.

“Murdoc!” she tried again.

“ _F-Fuck,_ babe! Oh God….” He began to grind against her, and it took every shred of her self-control not to cry out or give in. Dear Lord, did she want to let him in.

“N-No…” she gasped, shoving him back. “S-Someone’s...c-c-coming.”

“Already?” he teased breathlessly, pausing to smirk down at her. “Damn, you’ve gotta be the most sensitive bird I’ve ever been with.”

Anna felt her face grow hotter. “No, stupid. Someone’s at the—”

Three quick raps against the door made the both of them jolt.

“Murdoc? Are you okay in there?” 2-D’s voice called out.

Murdoc’s grin immediately collapsed. “Damn you, Face-Ache…” he grumbled as he pushed himself up to his knees.

Anna sat up and fixed herself, staring down in humiliation all the while.

“The hell d’you want? I’m in the middle of something here!” Murdoc snapped over his shoulder.

“I came up ‘n ‘eard you groanin’! You okay?” There was a pure sincerity to his voice that made Anna smile despite herself.

Murdoc paused for a moment then clutched onto his bandaged shoulder with a theatrical, wounded cry. “Oooooh, yeah, my shoulder just _really_ hurts. God! I can’t _believe_ how much it hurts!”

Anna hid a snort behind her hand, and he threw her a conspiratorial grin.

“D’you want me t’ lend you more ‘f my painkillahs? I’ve still got lots if you really need it!”

“He doesn’t need your meds, dude. He’s just being a big baby,” Anna said, brushing her hair from her face. “Besides, I don’t think it’s a good idea to just hand out your meds like candy.”

“Oh, ’s no trouble, really—”

“You best listen to her, actually,” Murdoc cut in. “Her mum’s a nurse, so she has some idea of wot she’s talking about. Maybe…Maybe just leave it be this time, ‘D.”

“But—”

“2-D, just _go_.”

Anna’s harsh tone made him peddle back a few startled steps. She was usually so patient with him. Besides, he only wanted to help, so why was she acting this way?

He pouted at the Winnebago’s door. “Well, fine. If you put it that way….”

She winced when she heard the door leading to his room slam behind him. She hadn’t meant to be so rude. He meant well by checking up on them, she knew, but a selfish part of her was glad he was finally gone nonetheless.

Murdoc turned back to her with a proud grin. “Damn, you shut him down pretty fast there, doll. You really want me that bad?” he teased, shoving her back again. “Naughty girl.”

Her face grew hot as she stared up at him. She wanted this, wanted it more than anything right now, and yet….

Anna sighed as she pushed him away and sat up again. “We...We should stop for now, Murdoc. We’re gonna get caught again.”

“But that’s part of the fun.”

He shielded himself from her tiny slaps, laughing at her all the while.

“Awright, awright!” he conceded, catching her wrists. Her scandalized pout was awfully adorable, but, of course, he kept this thought to himself.

His hands then slid down to squeeze her waist. “Wot if we go to your place then, hm?”

She reluctantly pried his hands away, shoving them back to his chest. “Dude, I live with my aunt. There’s no way I’m bringing you over there. Besides, if she saw you with me, she’d probably kill you.”

“Oh? ‘n why would she do that?” he crooned, keeping a firm grip on her hands.

The occasional brush of his thumb along her knuckles helped soothe her somewhat, and she let out a long sigh. “You slept with one of her best friends a bunch of times. It broke her heart.”

He rose an eyebrow. “Yer aunt got jealous?"

She made a face at the thought. “As if. I’m talking about her friend. She wanted…She wanted you to be her boyfriend, but….”

Murdoc snorted and leaned away. She resisted the urge to grab his hands once they slid away.

“I’m not particularly the dating kind, love. Anyone who’s known me fer more ‘n a few nights knows wot they’re getting into with me,” he scoffed.

 _“I knew a couple guys who got in my pants ‘fore they got to know me personally, ‘n it jus' felt really weird when they asked me out afterwards, y’know?”_ Amelia’s voice echoed in her head. _“I thought they knew wot it was we ‘ad, but, er, I guess not. Some people get too attached—‘specially after sex. But sex ain’t love, no matter how it feels.”_

Anna leaned back in the seat next to him. “I guess so…. I mean, it’s not like I wanna date you, either.”

Murdoc lolled his head over to smirk at her. “Then wot d’you say I drive us outta here ‘n we make love under the stars, eh?” The pure nonchalance in his voice made her laugh, just a little.

“What the hell? Where’d this romantic side of you come from? You were just saying you didn’t wanna date anyone,” she said as she pushed herself to her feet.

He grinned up at her, arms splayed over the top of the couch. “I don’t. All I did was ask if you’d like to continue our lil’ exploration someplace else.”

Anna threw him a wry look. “You’ve got a dangerous mouth on you, Murdoc Niccals.”

Murdoc’s grin only grew. “Well, you would know.”

Her face burned and she turned away to pick up the fallen first-aid kit.

Right when she straightened up again, however, Murdoc wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed himself against her. “C’mon, love, don’t go. We were just getting started. There’s so much more I want out of you.”

Her hesitation only acted as an invitation. He ran his lips down to her vulnerable neck, impatient, as usual. She trembled against him, torn as he peppered her jaw with slow, begging kisses.

But the image of her aunt would not leave her, no matter how good she felt with him.

They really would have to save this for another day.

Anna took a deep breath then stepped out of his grasp. “You have no idea how much I want this,” she sighed, turning to look up at him. “But I can’t. Not right now, at least.”

He looked almost hurt by this. “Why not?”

Her eyes fell to his bandages. “I don’t want your shoulder to be a distraction like it was last time. Get that healed first, then...call me.”

Before he could express any more perverted sentiments, Anna planted her lips against his. She cupped his face in a hand, relishing the smooth feeling before pulling away just as suddenly.

“I’ll see you around,” she whispered against his mouth.

She ducked out of the Winnebago in the next moment.

Murdoc's eyes fluttered open, shock reflected in his expression for a moment before he swung around to call her back. Anna was already at the door that led back up to the lobby.

“That was a dirty trick!” he shouted from his doorway. “I’m looking forward to any more you got up yer sleeves, Anna.”

 _Anna_.

Not doll, not love. Just her name. The simple sound of it spilling from his mouth made her smile.

“Not for a while, Niccals,” she teased right back.

Murdoc grinned to himself as she shut the door after her. He had no idea what the hell just happened, but he liked it. He liked that she was the one to take charge this time. He liked that she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. He liked that she knew what it was they were, and wanted nothing more. He liked that she had been such a tease.

He wiped a hand over his mouth and chuckled.

God, Anna Santos was just full of surprises. He couldn't wait to see what more of herself she was willing to offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is "Paranoid" by Black Sabbath.
> 
> The whole "Murdoc calling while high" thing wasn't in the original outline for this chapter, but I had a lot of fun writing it, lol. That and the smutty bits.
> 
> Anyway, I commissioned the amazing @murdocsayz on Tumblr to do a bit of voice work for this chapter. Go and listen to it here: https://overthedub.tumblr.com/post/181073156305/a-wonderful-va-commission-by-murdocsayz-sorry-it
> 
> Keep in mind that it is a bit NSFW, so please wear headphones.
> 
> I'm sorry for my chapters being released on random days lately. I promise to get back to updating on Fridays starting on the 21st. I hope you can all wait until then! Until next time, my dudes!


	17. Ashes to Ashes

****When Nora downed her fifth shot of the night, Anna wondered if there was more to her aunt’s offer to go out for dinner than she initially let on. Of course, going to a pub instead of a proper restaurant should’ve been her first clue that something was off. She wanted to suggest that they should eat someplace else—anywhere else—but there wasn't anything she could say that wouldn't make her already vigilant aunt smother her with questions.

Ever since she came home from treating Murdoc’s injury last week, her aunt had practically never left her side. She eyed her every time she picked up a call on her cell, hovered around her conversations with the interns longer than she needed to. It was like she was waiting for something to latch onto, though what that something could be, Anna had no idea.

She probably should've prepared herself for some kind of talk, but with the weekly deadlines oppressing a lot of her free time and scattered thoughts of Murdoc filling her head, she just hadn’t found the opportunity.

Now it was clear their “girls’ night out” would entail more than just a simple meal.

 _To hell with it_ , she thought as she psyched herself up at the entrance.  _I'm not gonna let myself be interrogated_  here _of all places_ _._

The sight of that damned jukebox lounging under a purple ring of neon consumed her thoughts, and the words became nothing more than incoherent static in her head.

So she simply sat at the bar, head down, stomach in knots, and loathing her weak self in relative silence.

Anna sighed in relief when her aunt finally called for a chaser. She had an almost inhuman level of alcohol tolerance, but all this seemed a bit excessive.

Nora grinned when she caught her niece's bewildered staring. “What’s up, kiddo? Scared I might drink myself to death?” she teased as she snatched a fry from her tray.

Anna drew her food out of her aunt's reach. “I’m more scared you’d eat all my fries the moment I look away. You need to balance all that booze out with  _something_."

Her aunt slapped her on the back with a hearty laugh. “Relax, I'm not gonna steal your dinner."

Nora sighed as she peered over the taps in the back, a somewhat dazed look on her face. "It’s just been a while since I last went out to drink. I haven’t had many chances to really sit down and talk with you, either.”

Anna’s smile looked more strained than anything. Hopefully, her aunt was too drunk to notice.

“So….” The smooth amber liquid glinted up at her as Nora swirled her shot glass around. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Hm?” Anna asked through her slow sips of soda.

Hesitation flickered across her aunt’s face for one brief moment, but it was enough for Anna to anticipate the worst.

“Be honest with me,” Nora began. Tension bunched in her shoulders as she forced herself to sit up straight. No matter what answer her niece gave, she would just have to suck it up and accept it. No more lingering. No more conjuring up terrible  _what-ifs_ in the dead of night. Nora Mendoza was not prone to flights of ridiculous fantasy, and she refused to start indulging in them now.

A short breath, then, “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

Anna’s sudden inhalation of soda burned her nose, and she spluttered painfully into her sleeve. Her hands flew to her neck in a panic, but this seemingly innocent gesture was mainly a ploy to feel if her concealer was still in place. Her hickeys had faded to a nearly indistinguishable brownish-yellow, but she couldn't risk anyone catching even that.

_She was lucky none of the other band members had been around when she crept out of the carpark that day. Noodle might not understand how she got so marked up, but Russ and even 2-D, slow as he was, would know what had happened if they saw her in this state._

_There was no way she could go back to her aunt’s place like this. She didn't even have a jacket or a sweater to cover herself up, but she wouldn't dare lapse now and ask to borrow one from Murdoc. Lord knew he’d try even harder to keep her there if she came back. As if leaving the first time wasn’t hard enough._

_There was only one person she could count on to help her at a time like this._

_Amelia had laughed at her slowly purpling neck and collarbone at first. Anna braced herself for relentless teasing and questions about what happened, but despite being the most vocal about wanting to hear all the sordid details, Amelia seemed oddly unconcerned about it now. Her boyfriend wanted to greet her too, but she made him stay put in their living room._

_Anna was grateful for this small courtesy. It was one thing to have the courage to tell a friend about this. It would be an entirely different matter if a relative stranger saw all the scandalous marks accenting her neck. They weren’t exactly badges of honor, though she couldn’t say she regretted receiving them, either._

_She held an ice pack to her neck while Amelia called Em over to buy her a few things, namely concealer that matched her skin tone. When it was apparent that Anna had no idea how to apply any of it herself, the two girls went to work._

_A clinical silence piled inside Amelia's bedroom as they blended the make-up seamlessly to her skin. Anna had no idea how much concentration this painstaking task required, so she did the one thing she was good at: she stayed quiet._

_In all honesty, she had expected a lot more mocking and laughing than this. The only thing they did tease her about was the sheer number of hickeys they ended up having to paint over._

_“He really did a number on you, didn’t he?” Amelia joked. Em jabbed her in the gut with a sharp elbow._

_Anna blushed but there was no use denying it. Murdoc had made sure she couldn't._

_Teaching her how to put on all this make-up proved quite the lengthy process due to all the different types of concealer they gave her, but her friends remained patient through it all. Besides, if she wanted to keep any future marks from prying eyes, she would need the practice._

_So far, it worked._

“What happened?” her aunt chuckled as Anna straightened up again.

“Was gonna laugh…” she wheezed, waving her away. “Forgot the straw was in my mouth….”

Nora's smile was a cross between amused and concerned. “Was it that funny?”

“Who’s gonna wanna date me?” Anna gestured at herself like she was a pile of trash.

“C’mon now. You’re cute!”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Nora cackled as she smacked her on the back one more time. “So negative tonight! I’m just saying you catch a lot more eyes than you think, Anna. I don’t understand how you can’t see that.”

Anna’s eyes fell to the counter. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m always staring at the ground.”

Nora pursed her lips and tilted her niece's head back up with a finger. “Then try lookin’ up, kiddo,” she suggested. “Never know who could be out there for you if you don’t bother looking ‘em right in the eye.”

Anna turned away. The ice clinked noisily around her glass as she swirled the straw around, pretending to mull this all over.

This would be good advice...had she never met Gorillaz.

Each member was so impossibly talented and amazing that nearly everyone else she came across seemed so dull in comparison. How many people in the world had naturally blue hair or even a _voice_ like 2-D’s? How many children could shred guitar _and_ right through zombies’ skulls like Noodle could? How many people had the ability to talk to and harbor wandering spirits like Russ? How many men out there had the poetic sensibilities, the sharp sense of humor, or the sheer amount of skill Murdoc Niccals possessed in one finger?

For all the compliments she gave them in her mind, though, she could never bring herself to say any of it aloud, least of all her thoughts concerning Murdoc. His ego was inflated enough as it was.

Besides, looking for other men seemed rather pointless at the moment. Why bother searching for something you already had? She already knew how great of a kisser Murdoc was, how stimulating a conversationalist he could be. They shared similar interests and beliefs and a hastily-built camaraderie born from banter and vice.

There was less commitment on both their parts, too. The only things they had to worry about the next time they met were place and protection.

Anna blew out a sigh. “I don’t think I want—”

Her aunt held up a finger. “Hold that thought,” she said as she swung out of her stool. “I gotta go to the bathroom. Watch my stuff.”

Anna deflated a little at this interruption, mostly in relief. What was she thinking? Her aunt would just interrogate her if she had said her piece, and she really wasn’t in the mood to be asked rapid-fire, slurred questions about her practically nonexistent love life. What good would any of it do if she was just going to forget most of the answers the next morning anyway?

Her aunt managed to stagger to the bathroom without veering into any nearby tables, but then went and nearly slammed the heavy bathroom door into those still waiting in line for an empty stall. Anna smiled a little as her aunt apologized profusely to a weary woman standing in the back before the door eked shut.

She blew out a slow sigh as she turned back to her sad excuse of a dinner.

A childish part of her wanted to be able to tell her aunt everything again, but she just _had_ to lust after the one man her aunt hated over everyone else. Every time she thought her luck couldn’t possibly get any worse, something always had to crop up and prove her wrong.

Anna traced a ring of wood on the counter with an absent finger. She hoped her aunt wouldn’t take too long. The place was getting more crowded by the second, and she wasn’t sure she could handle lingering in such a heavy atmosphere all alone.

Her grip on her soda tightened as some random stranger plunked themselves right next to her. There were other seats further down the counter. Why did they have to sit here?

“Can I get a Fireball over here, mate?” the stranger called out. “Make it a double.”

Anna shut her eyes, resigned to the absolute shitshow that was her luck.

Of course. Of fucking _course_ the very man haunting her thoughts just had to be here, too.

“Murdoc, what the hell are you doing here?”

His teasing grin infuriated her even more. “Well, that’s a rather cold greeting considering wot happened between us last time.”

“Don’t...Don’t change the subject,” she spluttered. “I’m here with my aunt. She might be coming back soon.”

He waved her concern away. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep 'n eye out fer her.”

“You don’t even know what she looks like.”

“No, but I did spot a woman sitting next to you before she wobbled on off to the ladies’ room. If I spot a bird coming outta there, I’ll just leave.”

Anna watched in mild fascination as he chugged the whole Fireball without so much as flinching. It would almost be impressive were it not so concerning.

She blew her hair from her face. “There’s more than one bar in Essex, you know. Why come to this one?”

“Hey, you didn’t have t' come here either,” he scoffed. “'sides, I was here way before you even showed up. Not my fault you didn’t notice.”

Murdoc swayed in his seat like a tree billowing in the breeze. Anna was sure he would fall over with the slightest poke of her finger. The thought was tempting, but she simply clasped her glass tighter in her hands and aimed a smile down at the counter.

“Wot say I buy you a drink?” He flourished dramatically, if clumsily, over the wide array of taps and bottled drinks stuffed in the back of the bar. Either alcohol made him generous or he had other motives up his dark leather sleeves.

Anna would indulge him for the moment. “Another soda?”

He blinked at her, almost as if he hadn’t understood, then batted her request away. “No, no, I mean a _real_ drink. Beer perhaps?”

“Dude, I’m driving. And I told you I don’t drink.”

“Oh, have some _fun_  fer—” A sharp hiccup cut him off. “Fer once, yeah?”

Anna gave him a decisive once-over. “You need water.”

Murdoc hiccuped again. “Prob’ly….”

Her quiet voice blended in far too well with the other patrons' calls for booze, so she had to resort to frantic waving to get the bartender's attention. 

Murdoc’s eyes gleamed at the chance to steal some of her chips. When she finally turned back to him, he was already pawing at the crunchy bits at the bottom of her tray.

The bartender set a large glass of ice water in front of her right as she was about to scold him. Her frustration ebbed as she shoved it over to him without a word.

“Hey...c'n I ask you something?” he slurred, resting his now pink face in a hand. His bangs brushed away in the motion, and she could actually see his eyebrows for once.

“You just did,” she replied without missing a beat.

“Oh ha bloody ha, I was being serious.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. “Okay, what?”

His blurry gaze fell to her lips, entranced for a moment by the ghost feeling of them on his own. Christ, he could kiss her right now.

Murdoc downed his ice water as fast as he could. He hadn’t come up to flirt, for Satan's sake. Well, not as much as he usually would, anyway.

“Last week….” The words rolled slowly off his numb tongue, but they snapped her to attention like the crack of a whip. “If we hadn’t been interrupted...how far would you've let me go?”

As expected, a startled blush bloomed across her face. It gave her that same glow she always wore whenever he kissed her neck, her smooth, honest lips. God, she was just so easy to rile up. It made him a little riled up himself.

“I…I don’t know.” Her voice was nearly lost in the hum of conversation clogging up the pub, but he had heard her. He was leaning in close, his imposing presence demanding an answer. He wouldn’t leave without it, she realized.

It wasn’t fair.

He never played fair.

“Would you have let me take you?”

Suddenly, she was weightless, fear and dread distorting her sense of gravity yet again. Why did he have to be so goddamn direct about it?

After a brief deliberation, she took a deep breath and nodded, just once.

She braced herself for laughter, for an endless stream of boasts or cruel jokes at her expense.

Instead, all he said was one soft, “Oh.”

She dared to look over at him, startled by his silence.

Murdoc sipped at the melted ice in his cup as if nothing had happened.

In a way, it was a relief. It was like he had already agreed to their new arrangement despite not knowing the terms of it all. She supposed when it came to important things like this, he knew when to keep his mouth shut. Maybe he never saw all this as that big a deal in the first place.

Anna glanced over her shoulder. She had meant to only look at the bathroom, but, of course, she couldn’t resist staring at the stupid jukebox, too.

Too many secrets had settled in the folds and cracks of this old pub, and she’d rather not kick them up now.

“I have some rules," she began again.

He stabbed his straw at the remaining ice cubes in his cup. “Of course you do.”

“We don’t talk to anyone about this. Not the band, not my aunt, not any of our friends or other acquaintances, no matter how distant.”

He scoffed. “As if my wankers for bandmates care about the intricacies of my sex life.”

“Second,” she added pointedly, “we don’t do anything at Kong unless the rest of the band is out.”

The memory of Russel breaking his nose over and over again the last time he was caught shagging a bird in the studio toilets made him grimace. He wasn’t sure he could stand any more fractures.

“Yeah, easy enough. Wot else?”

Her flustered hesitation intrigued him more than he cared to say. Did she have some secret kinks she wanted to try out with him? Was she perhaps going to confess that she was not a virgin after all? She certainly kissed like one, but maybe it had just been a while since she saw any sort of action.

Anna blew out a slow breath and said, “You have to wear protection."

_Oh for the love of—_

He threw his head back with an overly dramatic groan. "Do I _have_ to? It feels _so_ much better without—"

" _Murdoc._ "

"Awright, awright, _fine_."

His own nonchalance about the matter seemed to be influencing her. Now she looked him right in the eye, as if she aimed to corral his loose thoughts into some semblance of sober consciousness. This utter domination of his attention could easily translate into the bedroom, now that he thought about it. Though, realistically, he couldn't imagine Anna in any sort of sadistic leather garb.

"Don’t do anything too kinky the first few times," she went on.

There went all his fantasies.

"But...biting me's okay, I guess...." She ducked her head to hide her flushed face. "And...scratching...."

A slow smile crept along his face as she fidgeted with the cuff of her jacket. Well, at least their first time wouldn't be too vanilla.

"Make sure neither of us fall asleep after unless we decide to go to a hotel or something. And...promise to stay friends through it all.”

Anna offered a hand to him, her gaze embarrassed but steady. “Deal?”

He stared at the soft tips of her fingers. Her nails had grown just past the edges into bright crescents. Sharp tingles traced down his back at the thought of them carving their way deep into his flesh.

His eyes snapped back up to her clueless face. “I’d rather seal it with a kiss,” he said with a teasing grin.

Her fingers twitched at the offer.

He still wouldn't take her hand.

She curled them to her palm and pulled back, exasperated. “That’s not what ‘seal it with a kiss’ means, idiot.” Her breathy voice echoed a small regret as she looked away.

The handshake was more a formality than anything. He agreed to all her terms, didn't he? Why wasn't it enough?

“Awright. Suit yerself.” He swiveled around, nearly stumbling over his own feet as he tried to make a sweeping exit.

“Where’re you going?”

She tried to keep her voice unaffected, but a note of longing slipped through anyway.

Murdoc paused, reveling in it, before turning back with an impassive mask to mirror hers. “Best pop off before that dreadful aunt of yours comes back. I’d rather not fight someone while completely smashed, darling.”

Anna blinked. Had she really forgotten about her aunt that quickly?

“Oh...yeah, okay.”

Christ, was she actually disappointed he was leaving?

"My shoulder's all healed up now, in case you wanted to know," he added, rolling it for emphasis.

A small smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Good for you, I guess."

"Good fer you, too, I reckon," he said as he leaned on the counter.

Anna snorted as she shoved him away playfully. "Shut up, dude."

The two settled into more relaxed smiles, and she found herself almost wishing he could stay.

Her smile faded into a sigh as she glanced over at the bathroom once more.

What a stupid thought. They both knew it would be best if he left now.

A vague idea swirled into his head once she turned to face him again. It was bold, childish, and bordering on complete idiocy, but then again, most alcohol-inspired ideas were.

"Bye, Murdoc," she said, already resigned to her far-too-sober disappointment.

_Fuck it._

“Don’t you want t’ kiss me goodbye?”

Anna started to glance over her shoulder again, but he cupped her face in a hand and led her to look up at him instead.

“Just a quick one. Promise.”

Hesitation crackled in the air around her. A useless pretense.

“You promise?” she sighed, trying to sound exasperated. Tried and failed.

“I do.”

Anna searched her hands, as if she could somehow figure out what she should do by staring at the swoops and folds traced along her palms. She had a friend teach her how to read her own palms once, but that was such a long time ago, and she could only ever remember how to read her love line. It was long and curved up until the middle of her forefinger and middle one, splitting at the end into two smaller lines. According to her friend, this meant she would experience only the truest of loves, the kind depicted in fairy tales and stories and ballads.

Then again, you believed in anything when you were seven years old. Even in fake shit like having your destiny imprinted into your palms.

She rolled her fingers over them, turned them to her knees.

This wouldn’t be love. This _wasn’t_ love, but she didn’t want it any less than what anyone else could offer her.

“...Okay.”

She meant to stay still, meant to stay stoic and unaffected, but once his mouth brushed hers, Anna melted. His lips were wet with liquor and delirium, moving against her just so to taste her sweetness. Or was she the one moving in closer despite the sting of alcohol?

...What did it matter?

What did anything but this warm wisp of a moment matter?

And just like that, it was over. His hand slid from her face as he pulled away. His eyes were far-off, unfocused, though she knew they had been like that from the start. It wasn’t because that kiss, small as it was, affected him in any way.

“Right…” he whispered. “Gotta run. I’ll call you sometime.”

There was a dreaded sense of finality in the air. Anna couldn’t stand the uncertainty of “sometime”.

She grabbed onto his sleeve before it slipped from the counter. “Wait.”

His eyes flickered to her trembling fingers, studying the whites of her knuckles for one puzzled moment before finally looking up at her.

She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t have to. He knew. And she hated herself for it.

He cupped her face in a hand and stole her once more.

It was just lips, nothing fancy or sexy about it, but Murdoc found himself pulling her closer, wanting her, wanting this, satisfied with the simplicity, dizzy for more.

Anna Santos was small and innocent and soft. Purity had starved her of a healthy dose of sin, and it was only with him did she choose to fall.

He couldn’t get enough.

He swam in his self-indulgent euphoria, this overwhelming desire to _want_. How could she always make such simple things feel this way? Why was it always _her?_

Someone’s claws dug into his fine leather jacket and ripped him away from her, from the depths of a fantasy. His startled anger slammed his floating thoughts back into place.

Had Harry come to claim her for his own yet again?

No, she was the last person he'd expected to see. Someone he had used, discarded, and forgotten about until now.

“...Nora?” he whispered, shot through with disbelief.

Anna stared at him, wide-eyed and uncomprehending. “How...How do you know my aunt?”

A ripple of harsh laughter wrenched out of him at the sudden realization. God, this was as hilarious as it was sad.

Anna Santos was small and innocent and much too soft for her own good. It would be cruel to drag her down and expose her to the world's depravity, but dragging others down was all he was good for.

It was all out in the open now anyway.

Nora bristled, sensing his primed confession ready to spill. “Don’t—”

“Yer aunt never had some friend who slept with me.”

The words felt so, so heavy.

And then the truth—the wretched, horrible truth—rose and foamed over to a crescendo of white noise screaming in her head—

“She used to be my lover.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is "Ashes to Ashes" by David Bowie.
> 
> Aaaaaah, I'm so sorry for updating so late again. This chapter was really difficult for me to write. I had so many celebrations to go to last month and at the beginning of this month that I just got really burnt out from it all. Writing soft Murdoc is also a LOT harder than writing regular, old jackass Murdoc or horny Murdoc, so there's also...that.
> 
> Anyway, I hope I can get the next chapter out by next Friday since it's looking really dialogue-heavy, but I can't make any promises. I appreciate all your guys's patience so far.
> 
> Until next time, my dudes!


	18. Loose, Sad, and Free

****Bowie blared from the jukebox when the world fractured.

Anna sifted through the pieces of what was left, but she wasn’t sure anything could be salvaged. Dignity, friendship, that soft warmth flitting in her chest—all of it rendered meaningless.

She sat doll-like in her silence, her eyes rooted to Murdoc’s anticross necklace. All this time it was a ward, a warning, and she had willfully ignored it in her frenzied desperation for connection.

How could she expect anything good to come from this?

Of course it would end this way.

Of course, of course, of course.

Her luck had always been numbingly awful, but she dared to hope, just once, that she could be spared this one indulgence.

Honestly, she should’ve been angrier than she was. Or devastated. Hell, she’d even take sickened at this point.

Anything but this hollow acceptance.

Nora’s face flushed redder than it already was as she aimed a solid punch to Murdoc’s jaw.

A burly man drenched in tattoos grabbed her before it could land, and she whirled on him with such searing ferocity that everyone around her couldn't help but flinch.

The man offered her an apologetic look but little else. “Look, wha'ever this is, yer gonna have to take it outside, ma’am,” he warned her. “'r my mate over there's gonna call the police.”

The bartender’s hand hovered over the landline, his mouth pulled into a taut, wary line as he stared her down.

She wrenched her arm out of the man’s hold and stepped towards Murdoc again.

“Ma’am—”

“Outside,” she hissed a mere inch from his face.

Nora's murderous glare flickered over to Anna. “ _Now_.”

There was no room for refusals.

She yanked her purse from the counter before stomping out the door.

Terrified whispers floated about the pub as people tried to guess what was going on. No one came even remotely close.

Then again who in their right mind could come up with something as twisted as the truth?

Against his better judgement, Murdoc’s eyes drifted to Anna once more.

She still refused to meet his eyes, but the raw look of misery on her face said it all. It hurt to look at her for too long.

 _This is all_ your _fucking fault,_ he wanted to say—to scream at her—but the words didn’t make it past his throat. He swallowed them back like reluctant pills.

Any good she thought could come out of knowing him was as much a fantasy as him sanctifying her into something more than a stupid, naive little girl.

God, she was so fucking innocent. She really believed all this time that her aunt had some convenient, nameless “friend” who had slept with him. Easier to shove the blame onto some intangible figure than someone you actually knew—someone you loved.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he trudged outside, Anna mechanically shuffling out behind him. Even without glancing back at her, he could tell she was on the verge of panic. Her breathing was too shallow, too quick.

He’d probably be doing the same if he were more sober. Even so, Murdoc Niccals was a man built on masks. Terrified as he was to face a fragment of his past, he would approach it with feigned indifference.

The fact that she would hunt him down if he ran might have also been a key factor in his decision to follow her.

Moonlight flooded the tiny alleyway next to this cursed pub, like God Himself was shining a spotlight onto this whole sordid affair. Nora's back was to them, pulled into a tense stance. She exuded rage and despair. Only a blind fool would go up to her now.

Murdoc shook a fag out of the crumpled box in his pocket. Might as well, given the circumstances.

He caressed the space in front of his lighter in the same way he had Anna only a few moments before. The thought made him scowl and he quickly flicked the thing closed again. He didn’t need her to clog up his already muddled, drunken mind any further.

The sound drew Nora’s attention and she spun to face the both of them. Anna shuffled back instinctively, bowing her head as she tried her best to not make a further nuisance of herself.

“Put that shit out.”

Murdoc gave a slow, unaffected blink. “Why?”

She stomped up to him, snatched the cigarette from his mouth, and threw it into a puddle on the ground. She didn’t even care that the lit end branded her palm.

Christ, what a monster.

“Wot the—”

Her slap felt more like a punch to his jaw.

“How dare you….” Her voice was ragged. “How dare you show up after all this time. How dare you prey on my fucking niece. Don't you fucking touch her, or I swear to God, I'll kill you.”

Murdoc had been threatened far too many times in his life to know the difference between a serious threat and a meaningless one. Nora’s was very much the former kind.

He caught Anna’s eye for just a moment before she flinched and looked away.

Now that he got a proper look at the both of them, he saw the resemblance. In fact, Anna looked like a younger Nora. She was much skinnier than her aunt at that age and her skin far tanner, but the likeness was still uncanny.

Had the years gone by that quickly? Sure, his sense of time was skewed from all the booze and drugs he consumed over the years, but to have _this_ many years go by without him noticing made him feel old.

Christ, he was eleven years older than Anna, wasn’t he? It was like he was some desperate codger trading out his aging girlfriend for a newer model.

Murdoc rubbed his stinging cheek as he finally looked over at Nora again. A few crinkles rested at the corners of her eyes and her once bright skin had an almost sallow glow about it now. Or maybe she just looked sickly under this anemic moonlight. Either way, it wasn’t a good look for her.

“You’ve gotten older,” he dared to say.

Nora’s laugh was without a trace of humor. “And you look like an old man.”

His eye twitched. “Well, if I remember correctly, yer technically older ‘n me, so wot does that make you, Nora?”

She looked as if she wanted to slap him again.

Instead, she turned to Anna, her gaze softening just a little. “There’ve been some...rumors going around about you two dating,” she began slowly. “Is this true?”

Anna stared at her, uncomprehending. “What?”

Her aunt clicked her tongue. “ _Are you two dating?_ ” she hissed.

“N-No….”

Apparently unsatisfied, Nora turned to Murdoc. “Are you?”

He gave a wide shrug. “You know me, love. I don't get attached for long.”

“Are you or are you not dating my niece?”

Murdoc’s eyes slid over to Anna for one brief moment before tossing Nora a cruel smile. “Anna’s still a virgin, if that’s wot yer wondering.”

Nora rose her hand again, and he turned away with an expectant grimace.

Fucking idiot. Why didn’t he just answer the question properly? He knew better than to talk back to someone who was capable of hurting him, especially when that someone was drunk.

She studied his cowering frame for one moment then reluctantly lowered her hand.

“Anna…” Nora said, reining in her frustration. “What did he do to you?”

Anna wrung the hem of her jacket so thin that her knuckles screamed in protest.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. What did you do with him, Anna?”

“I...I kissed him…” Anna gasped.

“Yeah, I saw that. How many times?”

Her eyes stung from the humiliation. She sucked in a shaky breath, but even that wasn’t enough to clear the panic clenching her lungs.

“How many _fucking_ times, Anna?”

“S-Six…” she sputtered.

“When and where?”

She shifted on her feet before choking out, “Three times at Kong...and three times at this bar….”

“I meant where did he kiss you on your body?”

“The...The mouth...a-and neck.”

“Did he touch you anywhere else?”

Anna trembled as she hugged herself with enough force to bruise her own arms and choked out a pained whimper.

Murdoc stepped forward and snapped, “Wot are you, a fucking social worker? You wanna take out some fucking rag doll 'n have her point out where the bad man touched her while yer at it?”

Nora smacked him across the face once more. He knew it was stupid of him to speak, knew it would only result in him getting beaten down and yelled at, but he couldn’t help it. As fucked as this whole situation was, there wasn’t any reason for her to berate the both of them for being human.

“Don’t you fucking talk right now, bastard. I don’t wanna hear it from you.”

She whirled back to her niece. “ _Where_ , Anna?”

Anna tried to suck in the cool night air, tore at her jacket, at her collar but nothing worked nothing was working she couldn’t breathe couldn’t breathe _couldn’t breathe—_

“For Satan's sake, woman, she's an adult!” Murdoc cried out. “Twenty-two fucking years old! You were younger than her when you were shagging me. Besides, she consented, ‘n she wanted it, so wot the hell is wrong with any’a this?”

“It's wrong because it's _you_ , Murdoc.” Nora’s voice cracked, and he finally noticed the angry tears stuck in the corners of her eyes. “I know what you're like...what you can do...what you've _done_. And I don't want you using my niece like you use everyone else.”

“You mean like I used you?” he scoffed. “You knew wot you were gettin' into with me, ‘n you still wanted to keep me exclusive. Bit selfish, yeah? Least Anna here fucking _gets_ it.”

Anna let out a sharp cry when he clapped a hand on her shoulder. The sound was so wretched and broken that he recoiled. She sounded as if she had been gutted.

Nora wiped at her face impatiently. “Don’t you ever go near Anna again, you hear me? She's not someone you can just play with then forget. Not...Not like me.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “She’s the one who asked me, awright? We were laying down some ground rules like civil adults ‘fore you fucking showed up ‘n made a goddamn scene."

“She wouldn’t…. Anna wouldn’t….”

“ _Stop,_ " Anna croaked, startling the both of them. “Stop talking….”

Nora looked pained. “Anna—"

“ _I said stop talking!_ ” she screamed as she clamped her hands over her ears. "Stop.... Just please  _stop._ "

She collapsed right as a sob tore out of her throat.

Nora kneeled next to her, a concerned hand hovering over her niece's back for a moment before she clenched it into a fist.

“I don’t understand…" she said, her voice weary. "Why her? Why did it have to be _her?_ ”

Murdoc opened his mouth, but there was nothing. No reason. No excuse.

He clenched his jaw.

Goddammit…. If Anna had just let him leave the first time, none of this would have happened. He wouldn’t have to stand here and listen to this bullshit, and she wouldn’t have ever found out that he had slept with her aunt.

Why the hell didn’t she want him to go anyway? Why the hell had he _stayed?_

Nora was right to question him. Why her? Why had he put so much of his time and effort into chasing after her? Why did he bother with her at all?

This had just been a waste of his time. Only an idiot would pursue a girl like her for this long. At least cowards knew to quit while they were ahead. And Hell knew Murdoc Niccals was a goddamn coward.

He took one last look at Anna's huddled, pathetic form, turned away, and left without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is a lyric from Aretha Franklin's "Truth and Honesty". The overall mood of this song...doesn't fit with the mood for this chapter at all tbh, but the lyrics themselves did. It almost seems cruel to have such a light-hearted song about telling the truth for the chapter title in these circumstances though....
> 
> Anyway, if you haven't already, go check out my dumb blog I made for this fic here: overthedub.tumblr.com
> 
> I upload sneak peeks for upcoming chapters and other Phase 1 stuff there.
> 
> I also made a playlist for the fic here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLLDphZnxJyt0hgkbImnxpssTGoo3528LU
> 
> Whenever I upload a sneak peek, I also add the song(s) for that chapter onto this playlist.
> 
> Until next time, my dudes!


	19. Unfinished Sympathy

Anna watched as clusters of gray clouds eked past each other, unhurried in their journey to some other miserable part of the U.K. that needed their collective attention. It seemed a useless endeavor. The whole country was swathed in gray and cool rain no matter where those damned clouds went.

It was supposed to be spring. She was supposed to be wearing T-shirts and shorts and soaking up sunshine, not shivering in sweaters and damp melancholy.

She had woken up a little past noon, eyes puffy, concealer smeared all over her tilted pillow, and her blankets bunched around her feet. Turning over and going back to sleep again was a very tempting thought, but her aunt would never allow it. Not when she was knowingly avoiding the forest of thorns that laid ahead of them.

So she sat at the edge of her bed and stared up at the dreary sky, the events of the day before playing over and over in her mind like some cruel, infinite record skip.

Anna had snapped at her aunt soon after Murdoc left. She couldn’t remember what she said. No matter how hard she tried to grasp at a tangible memory of the aftermath, there was nothing but a raw gash of rage and pain and pus-like confusion.

Maybe she hadn’t said anything at all. Maybe she had simply cried out in her failure to find the words to voice her ruin.

Now it was tomorrow and she had nothing to say.

It was two o’clock when her aunt finally knocked on her door.

Anna curled up and said nothing. Her aunt came in anyway.

Nora lingered in the doorway. “Hey….”

Anna refused to look up.

“Made you some coffee, so….”

Her niece’s response was muffled behind her knees.

Nora frowned. “What?”

Anna tilted her head up just enough so she could be heard. “...Don’t want any.”

_Oh, for fuck’s sake._

“Look, I’ve had a hangover all morning. Don’t make this difficult for me,” Nora grumbled.

“Difficult for you?” Anna’s voice was coated in a bitter tinge.

Nora clenched her jaw. There was no way to approach what happened yesterday without tearing open their wounds, but it was a necessary step in mending them altogether.

Obviously Anna was still too immature to see that.

Hot coffee splashed out onto the nightstand as Nora slammed the mug down.

She didn’t need any of this right now. She just needed everything to be okay again.

Her face hardened as she turned away. “Come down when you’re ready.”

Ready for what? More shoddy attempts at a late breakfast? A painfully humiliating talk? Both?

Anna listened as her aunt stomped back downstairs like a child throwing a tantrum and curled further in on herself.

Would it really be a good idea to have this talk now when they could barely hold a stupid conversation about coffee?

Nora sank deep into the living room couch with a slow sigh. Small sounds, harsh light, and a roiling mix of painful emotions drowned her patience, her sober sense of reason. She lashed out at Anna, and for what? What did she even think she could achieve by wringing out forgiveness that wasn’t earned?

One blurry night was not enough time for them to heal. Now Anna wouldn’t even look at her, much less speak to her.

She threw an arm over her eyes to block out the diluted sunlight seeping in through the blinds and kicked her feet up onto the glass coffee table. The pressure on her eyelids and taking in slow, deep breaths just barely kept her rising nausea at bay.

Anna padded down the stairs, gripping her mug so tightly her knuckles gleamed white. It had taken her a good half hour or so to finally muster the courage to get ready for the day ahead, and even then, the knot in her stomach wouldn’t let up.

She nearly dropped her now cold mug of coffee when she saw her aunt slumped in the couch right by the stairs. Her aunt made no effort to acknowledge her niece’s presence even though she must have heard her approach. Too focused on steadying her labored breathing perhaps.

Anna’s eyes fell to the table where her aunt displayed her wine and fancy decanter of whiskey. It looked as if it was missing some contents.

She turned away and shuffled to the kitchen without a word.

Nora’s ears pricked up when she heard the blinds in front of her close and the sharp clatter of a glass set on the table in front of her. She slowly lifted the arm from her face.

Anna sat on the plush armchair across from her and sipped the coffee Nora had forced upon her earlier. A tall glass of water was perched on the edge of the table by her feet.

“Thanks…” Nora muttered as she scooped up the glass.

Her niece still refused to look her in the eye. “Mhm….”

A chilled silence split the room in two. Neither of them knew how to breach this divide.

Nora swirled the glass in her hand, waiting for the dizziness pulsing throughout her body to settle down. It had taken a lot just to shower and make a pot of coffee. All she wanted to do now was melt into her bed and never come back out.

The longer they refused to speak, the more distorted the distance between them became.

Anna blew out a small sigh. She would have to be the one to start, wouldn’t she?

Time for the age-old opener then.

“So….”

“So…” her aunt repeated.

Anna took a deep breath. “So...you and Murdoc….”

Nora grimaced. “Yeah.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Hard to say when exactly,” she replied, her gaze falling to the table. There was no delicate way to put any of this. Her sordid history with Murdoc wasn’t a topic she ever liked to talk about, but if delving into it could help Anna understand why she had acted the way she had last night, well….

“I took a lot of drugs in my early twenties. Lot of the hard stuff, y’know? Fucked me up for a while. If Reggie hadn’t forced me into rehab when he did, I would’ve….”

Nora blew out another slow sigh as she leaned back into the couch. She forced herself to take a sip of water.

“Who’s Reggie?”

Her aunt smiled, just a little. “He’s an old friend of mine. I lost my V-card to that guy, come to think of it. Not that what we had really went anywhere, but I still keep in touch with him.”

Nora rose the glass to eye level, a toast to her younger, stupider self. “He was also the guy who introduced me to Murdoc. I don’t blame him for what came out of that. He just wanted to help me find someone else after we broke up. It was a mutual break-up, but...I don’t know, I guess he felt bad about it or something.”

Nora drained the rest of her water as fast as she dared. It helped a little bit, she supposed.

“A bunch of things happened after that. Lots of mistakes and ignored red flags and booze and drugs and a hell of a lot of sex.”

Her niece made a face at this, and she smirked. “Sorry, but it’s true.”

Nora grunted as she sat up straighter in her seat. “Believe it or not, running away to the U.K. at eighteen without a plan wasn’t the best idea. I should’ve just stuck it out and gotten a degree in audio engineering or production or something, but I wasn’t thinking. I was just so mad at my parents for always getting on my case and treating me….”

Irony struck her like a sudden punch to the gut, and she let out a laugh that sounded more like a deflated wheeze.

Anna blinked at her, oblivious.

“Treating me...like a child.”

It was curious how much of her younger self was reflected again in her niece.

Anna had the same short, scruffy hair, the same smooth, round face, the same stubborn cynicism—like a preserved memento of a time she’d rather forget. Hell, she had even run from the same suppression Nora had suffered under her own parents seventeen years ago, and what had she found instead? Just more of the same stifling attitudes all over again.

History had a rather twisted way of repeating itself. It seemed only a matter of time before Anna retraced her aunt’s steps all the way to Murdoc Niccals himself.

Nora leaned back with another sigh. Hangovers were starting to hit her harder now that she was almost thirty-seven. Maybe it was about time for her to admit she was getting old.

“I thought I was this...this genius for coming up with such an impulsive plan,” she continued. “I mean, it wasn’t even a _plan_. Coming over here and just...mooching off my friend’s grandma…. God, I didn’t even think of finding a job or anything. I can’t even remember what my thought process behind all this was. I was gonna hide out in the U.K., and then what? I had no fucking clue what I was doing.”

She set her glass back onto the table. “My friend’s grandma was so forgiving of every shitty thing I did, but even she had her limits. The more I spent on useless junk for myself, the more she would encourage me to reconcile with my parents. It got to the point where it sounded like she just wanted to get rid of me, so when I was nineteen, I packed up most of my stuff and just...ran away.

“I wandered around a lot after that. Just jumped between motels...took advantage of some old people’s cute B&B places...got involved with a bunch of different bands. I did a lot of background stuff for them to make ends meet. It wasn't hard work. Just the kinds of stuff I did with my old band from high school, y’know? A couple of ‘em made decent followings as far as indie bands went. Reg's band was one of those."

Her aunt’s attempt at a smile looked more like a pained grimace. “Reg and I had been off and on for a few years, but by the time he introduced me to Murdoc, we decided to break it off for good. I think I was already getting sick of him at that point anyway. He kept getting on my case about sobering up, but I didn’t want to listen. I just wanted to keep doing the same terrible things I always did back then. Murdoc saw that as a chance to use me for a good couple years.

“I didn’t know he was younger than me until after I slept with him the first time. That was...weird for me to find out, but I wasn’t picky about who I slept with back then, and he didn’t seem to care much either. That was what I liked about him, I guess. He didn’t give a damn about anything or anyone, and he didn’t take any crap from anyone, either. It was like he was rock-’n-roll personified.”

Nora’s eyes trailed to the dusty red V-guitar hidden behind an old coat rack she had yet to throw out. “I was the guitarist in one of his bands, Kiss ‘n Make Up. No one ever signed us, of course. Murdoc can’t sing worth a damn.”

Anna blinked. “He’s...okay.”

“Oh, you’ve heard him sing, huh?" Her stomach twisted when her aunt looked over at her, but Nora merely smirked. "Was it Bowie? He does a decent Bowie impression.”

“Y-Yeah….”

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her aunt’s mouth for a moment, but it fell just as quickly. “Look, I don’t wanna get into what happened between us too much. He got me involved in some pretty bad shit. Illegal shit. Some of it was so weird, I don't even know how to describe what it was I helped him with. And even after that, after all the years of sex, drugs, and rock, I thought I loved him. I thought he was the only one who understood me. A guy four years younger than me.”

She suddenly broke into wry laughter that made Anna jump. “As if...As if I even knew what that _was_ at that point. He never treated me as anything more than a convenient hole or someone to dump the blame onto when the heat got too hot. We never even talked much unless he needed something from me or we were high off our asses. I can’t believe I wanted to be with _that_ for the rest of my life. Some manipulative asshole that took advantage of people who couldn’t refuse him. Yeah, that’s the Prince Charming I’ve always wanted….”

Nora gestured at the coffee table in front of her as if to toss the memories onto its surface. “The more gigs we got, the more frustrated Murdoc became when we were never signed. Everyone thought the band was gonna split up, and I stupidly, _naively_ thought that if I could just get Murdoc to remember why he formed the band in the first place, he would stay. He was already seeing me less and less, and I...I panicked.

“I told him I loved him after we had sex one night and you know what the fucker did?” She blew out a breathy chuckle. “He pulled me close and stroked my hair until I fell asleep. He didn’t even say anything, but I was a desperate, lovesick moron who wanted to believe that he didn’t know how to tell me how he felt.

“The next morning, I woke up alone with my purse gone and a motel bill I couldn’t pay. I ran to the band’s practice spot, but it was too late. The band was finished. I was the last to find out. I _pleaded_ with the other guys to tell me where Murdoc went, but no one knew. Not that they cared. If anything, they all seemed happy he was finally gone.

"I traveled from pub to pub after that, anywhere I thought he might be, but he just...vanished. I couldn’t take it. I didn’t know what to do without him, so I took a bunch of drugs all at once.”  Her aunt covered her mouth with her hands and let out a shaky breath. “Or tried to, at least. Reggie found me before I could take too much of anything. He’d been drinking at one of the pubs I thought Murdoc might be at, and he followed me to my motel room. When he saw what I was trying to do, he dragged me kicking and screaming all the way to the hospital.”

The clock above her head ticked away the silent seconds.

Anna stared down at the mug in her hands, frozen in a state of disbelief and repulsed confusion. She had no words for something like this, no idea what to even do.

Nora reached over the arm of the couch to grab her crystal decanter of whiskey. Instead of pouring some in a shot glass, she took a swig straight out of the bottle.

Her niece still hadn’t moved. It was as if she were waiting for permission to do so.

Nora shifted in her seat, feeling antsier the longer she stared. “Look, I'm not asking you to forgive me for how I handled things yesterday. I know I pushed you way too far. I’m sorry."

She took a deep breath before adding, "You might think I’m coddling you or that I’m a nag or whatever, but I just...I just want you to be safe, Anna.”

Saying her name stirred her a little, and her niece finally looked up.

“I couldn’t take it if he hurt you, too. I need you to promise me— _really_ promise me this time—that you won’t have anything to do with Murdoc Niccals ever again.”

Anna’s face remained a blank slate. A callous part of her wanted to tell her aunt that it was her own damn fault for not getting to know him past what she wanted him to be in the first place. Murdoc wasn’t blameless, sure, but neither was she.

 _I know him_ , this callous, arrogant part of her huffed. _I got to know him and you never even tried._

It was a stupid thought. A selfish one.

As if knowing him was any better than accepting his façade at face value. The outcome would be the same no matter how well one got to know him.

She stared at her aunt’s worn frame, the puffy bags under her dark eyes. She too had endured pain and joy and sorrow at the hands of this devil of a man. She understood, perhaps better than anyone else, who Murdoc Niccals was and what he was capable of.

Murdoc was not a man to be trusted, but Anna had come to trust him anyway. He was not a good man, and yet she had seen good in him underneath it all. He had done so many deplorable acts, and yet she had let him act upon them anyway.

He was a man who preyed on the lonely and the naïve. And yet….

Anna sighed. If her aunt put all her cards on the table, it only seemed right to return the favor.

She looked her aunt right in the eye and gave her honest answer.

* * *

Her far too eventful spring melted into a dull, watered-down summer.

Making even the simplest of plans with Gorillaz proved tedious, what with 2-D always asking why Murdoc was never invited to hang out with them anymore. Anna managed to distract him with some random topic or other, but the more they hung out without Murdoc, the more 2-D pestered her about it.

At this point, she was starting to run out of excuses.

Russel would throw her a curious look whenever the issue was brought up, but never asked for her reasons. If anything, he seemed to enjoy Murdoc’s absence. Anna couldn’t help but be grateful for his complete lack of curiosity.

Even the mere mention of Murdoc provoked a heated sense of shame and confusion that she’d much rather ignore than attempt to unpack. These feelings sat coiled in her chest, locked behind a perpetual smile so convincing it made her sick.

Nothing had been resolved that day she and her aunt shared their extremely awkward talk. Anna had admitted she couldn’t promise her aunt anything without thinking things over first, but that was all she was able to get out before she was swiftly shut down.

Her aunt sagged in her seat and rubbed at her purpling eyelids. Anna was certain she was going to burst into tears.

In a subdued voice, her aunt simply asked, “ _Do you really like him or did you like that he gave you attention?_ ”

Nora hoped more than anything that it was the former. Better her niece have a naive crush than fall into the same ending all over again.

Anna opened her mouth, faltered, shut it once more.

Of course she liked Murdoc, she wanted to say. But why? Because he was poetic? Because he was charming? Because she admired his lazy confidence?

Those were the traits of a con man—of a liar.

That night they kissed by the jukebox flashed across her mind in a swirl of disorienting neon and tears. She had asked Murdoc what he honestly thought of her, but he never gave her a proper answer, did he? Instead, he captured her lips and silenced her thoughts, her doubts, her sanity.

It was like her aunt’s panicked confession to him all those years ago but worse. She knew what kind of man he was from the start, and still, she confused his greed for friendship, his lust for devotion. Those soft, gentle kisses, his quiet, crooked smiles, his breathy compliments—all of it a means to sink his teeth into her even deeper and infect her with a carnality she could not be rid of.

Nora shoved herself off the couch with a woozy grunt and headed up to her bedroom without another word.

Neither of them picked the topic back up again after that. Her aunt acted as if everything were normal just a few hours later while Anna continued to tiptoe around her. She didn’t have anything to hide, but she couldn’t bear to hear that condescending question asked again either. The implications of her uncertainty twisted in her like a knife digging into a wound.

Anna hated how good she was at hiding her pain, but what else could she do? Taking out the blade meant she would bleed herself dry, and she did not have the strength to endure such a thing.

It was nearly the end of the millennium and she still had so much work to do. Various rumors and conspiracy theories about the disastrous Y2K scenario ran rampant. Anna tried to not let any of that nonsense get to her. She had this small seed of doubt that something awful might happen, of course, but she would not feed it, would not let it grow even more out-of-hand than it already was.

Her aunt, on the other hand, delighted in the idea, and thought it would be fun to have the magazine throw an “End of the World”-themed party on New Year’s Eve. Once she managed to gather the funds to book a huge hall at a nearby convention center, Anna and the rest of the Sound Underground staff spent the remainder of the millennium planning for the biggest bash Essex had ever seen.

Her aunt got Reggie’s band to agree to play the venue, not that they needed much convincing. Playing one last live show in front of hundreds of people right before the world was supposed to collapse was the most rock-and-roll ending they could think of.

Reggie and his band Fight and Flight often came over to her aunt’s place to have dinner and plan out their set. Anna mostly stayed out of their way, though she did appreciate how much their rowdy visits made her aunt smile and laugh.

The staff at Sound Underground spent the very last day of the millennium running back and forth between the office, her aunt’s place, and the venue in a chaotic whirlwind of last-minute set-ups. Anna had to reassure her younger sisters over the phone that Y2K definitely wasn’t going to happen as fellow employees moved a bunch of party equipment out of her aunt’s living room. She couldn’t promise them anything concrete, but she did have the advantage (or disadvantage depending on how one looked at it) of being a whole eight hours ahead of them.

“I’ll call you guys sometime after it becomes midnight here,” she said, holding her cell phone between her shoulder and her cheek as she helped one of their editors pack rolls of streamers into a box by the front door. “I’m, like, eight hours ahead, so if I don’t call you by...four where you are, then assume the phone systems are dead.”

“ _Oh yeah, I forgot time zones were a thing_ ,” her sister Angel mumbled.

“‘Oh yeah, I forgot time zones were a thing',” Anna mocked halfheartedly. “Yeah, but seriously, calm down, you guys. Y2K doesn’t make any sense. If all the computers are supposed to crash at midnight or whatever, then each time zone would implode individually instead of together. That’s stupid as hell. What kind of apocalypse only destroys one section of the planet at a time?”

Her aunt called her to help load some stuff into her car, so Anna got in one last sarcastic quip before hanging up, ignoring her sisters’ exaggerated yelling they spouted in lieu of a goodbye.

The party started at nine, and yet they spent every minute before then setting up various black and gold decorations and listening to Reggie’s band rehearse their set. The bass of each song rumbled around the huge hall, pulsing in her chest like a second heartbeat. Anna had gotten used to coming across arbitrary reminders of Murdoc every now and then, but none as inescapable as this.

She had no time nor patience for any juvenile moping, so she did her best to tune it out and carry on decorating.

The knife sank further into her as the day wore on.

Way more people showed up for this meager party than she expected. Not that she was complaining. All the better for future sales and marketing. If anyone who came was sober enough to remember the name of their magazine by the end of it, anyway.

The Sound Underground employees who decided to come were off dancing or drinking their troubles away while Anna was stuck behind a booth selling magazines. She didn’t resent the small job she was given, but she still didn’t see the point in it.

No one came to a party to _read_ , but her aunt had insisted they set up a little booth just in case. The rationale behind it made sense. People were way more frivolous with their money when they thought the world was going to shit, after all. Anna still couldn’t think of an idiot sad or stupid enough to dump their money on a bunch of magazines, though, no matter the quality.

Much to her disbelief, some guy in a dark hoodie she had seen wandering around the hall all night started sauntering up to her booth. Anna scrambled to haul out a few more stacks of magazines onto the table, but the man paused in front of her before she could finish, hood drawn up and hands crammed in his pockets.

She flushed at her unprofessionalism. “Wait a moment, sir. I’m almost done setting up.” 

“Aw haw, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all about me, darling.”

Anna’s breath caught in her throat.

Why? Why after all these months? She had finally come to accept that she would never speak to him again, but of course, he would never let her go in peace.

“Murdoc…” she breathed out.

He flipped his hood down with his usual sharp grin plastered on his face. “In the flesh.”

She wanted to reach out to him. She wasn’t sure if it was to punch him or cup his face, but she kept her hands clasped together on top of the booth regardless. Neither of those options seemed appropriate right now.

She looked away and asked, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, the sign outside said ‘End of the World Party’,” he said, jerking a thumb towards the front door of the hall. “And love, I intend to party.”

“But why _here?_ ” Her voice cracked on the last word. “You stupid piece of shit…. You can’t just come up to me and act like nothing happened. Like nothing you did was _wrong_. I won’t gloss over all the shitty things you’ve done to me, Murdoc. To _my aunt._ Not anymore. I don’t…. I can’t forgive you for….”

She faltered, suddenly glad for the large booth in between them. It made her feel less exposed to his horrible, scrutinizing gaze, to the world of awful truths around them.

Her eyes fell to the magazines before her. She had no idea how to talk to him anymore...what there even was to say.

It was all too much even for the end of the world.

“Then don’t forgive me,” Murdoc said, so resolute that it startled her. “Hell knows I don’t deserve it.”

Anna finally looked up at him. He was trying much too hard to appear casual and unaffected, judging by the tension built into his shoulders. Roaming red strobe lights split the space between them. In that brief flash of light, she saw how strained his smile was.

She pretended to sort through the stacks behind her, granting him the chance to leave her alone again.

He didn’t take it.

Anna sighed and made her way around the booth to face him properly.

Murdoc leaned away a little, expecting a well-deserved slap to the face or even a swift kick to the balls.

“Are you even sorry for anything you’ve done? Any of it at all?”

He would’ve preferred being slapped to this.

What was it with her and always wanting to talk about shit like this anyway? As if knowing the truth would change anything.

He shifted on his feet. “No.”

It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but it was an honest answer nonetheless. She had to appreciate that, at least.

Anna wrapped her arms around herself. “Were we…Were we ever really friends, Murdoc?”

Surely she knew the answer to this, too. What was the point in asking?

“No.”

Of course she meant nothing to him. It was stupid to think otherwise. So why did she want to mean something to him anyway?

“Why are you really here, Murdoc?” A worn-down, defeated curiosity spilled down her small shoulders.

Murdoc opened his mouth, but the joke he was about to spew caught in his throat. It suddenly felt out of place, and besides, she’d slap him as soon as he got it out.

He heaved an impatient sigh, scratched the back of his neck, and snapped, “Why do you think?”

She _couldn’t_ think. That was the problem. He knew—surely he knew—how his very presence whittled away her thoughts and inhibitions, how infectious his impulsiveness was to her.

He must’ve known how much she had to hate him, and yet, here he was.

She hated him all the more for it. He wasn’t seeking forgiveness or redemption, but when it came to the end of everything, he sought her out above anyone else.

Murdoc Niccals really might be the cruelest man alive, and God, had she missed him terribly.

Anna clasped his clammy hand in hers, reassured in its steady warmth, and led him through the mass of writhing, dancing bodies. The band started up another song, one with a slow, sensual bassline that glided up their spines. She paused in the middle of the dance floor and her hand slipped away.

He stared at her stiff frame, curious for a moment before she threw her hands up and swung her hips to the drowsy beat. Murdoc merely watched, transfixed as tiny, shy Anna Santos unraveled before him. She dipped when the beat slowed further and tossed him a sultry look over her shoulder when she rolled back up. This was a dare, a challenge for him to take or leave as he saw fit.

Fuck...he had no idea she could move like _that_.

Murdoc wrapped his arms around her stomach and pressed his body against hers. She didn’t fight him, didn’t want to. He had made his choice. Now all they had left was to fall.

He swayed their bodies to the drunken rhythm, hand edging down to stroke her inner thigh. Anna leaned against him, left arm hooked around the back of his neck and head thrown back in pure pleasure.

He spun her around to face him and caught her hands as she leaned in close. Anna laced their fingers together, eyes trained on his lips as they continued to sway. He leaned forward as if he meant to kiss her, but she pulled away at the last moment. Murdoc let her hands slip away. The sharp gleam in Anna’s eyes demanded he look at her, only her, beckoning him to his demise.

He could wait no longer. He grabbed her slim shoulders, drew her to him, and consumed her.

The kiss was every bit of rage and misery and pent-up sexual frustration they both had endured these absent months. Murdoc bit her bottom lip, groped her waist, her ass, with enough force for it to hurt. Anna tugged at his hair, only for him to savagely return the favor.

Her neck became exposed in their mad tussle, and he ran his tongue up the sweat-slicked flesh. Her gasp was music. It was ecstasy. It was poison.

Anna ran her hands up his chest and pulled him in for a much slower kiss. Her tongue teased his, but Murdoc Niccals was not a patient man. He held her closer, pushed her further, but he wanted to go deeper, wanted it so badly that he found himself shaking.

It was pathetic. An apology from him would only taste like a lie, but this carnality, this brutality of who he was, had to count for _something._

The two broke apart with heavy, reluctant breaths when the song changed to some simpering romantic ballad that was far too innocent a tune for what they had in mind.

Anna couldn’t help it. She burst into a fit of wild laughter that was mostly drowned out by the lead singer’s rough crooning.

What the hell had they been doing all this time? Why hadn’t they just talked through their shit like they always did?

They wouldn’t have had to wait this long. They shouldn’t have had to.

Anna took his hand and tugged him off the dance floor, away from the crowds and the harsh music and her aunt, out into the world beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is "Unfinished Sympathy" by Massive Attack.
> 
> HUGE thanks to my beta reader thenoodlenow on Tumblr for giving me some really helpful critiques on this chapter. It really helped flesh out my OCs a whole lot more and got me to be more creative with my descriptions of things. Go follow her if you have a Tumblr! She posts a ton of great Gorillaz stuff.
> 
> Anyway, if you guys have been wondering where I've been, please read this post: https://overthedub.tumblr.com/post/183763831220/update
> 
> TL;DR: I've been going through some personal shit and I'm looking for another job on top of that (I currently freelance, but it's not enough for me to move out). I had to cut my writing time out in order to focus on life stuff. I'm sorry.
> 
> Hmmm, don't wanna end on a sad note, so...uh, I'm gonna see Endgame today lol. Hope I don't cry.


End file.
